


Wooing Peter Parker

by Neuropsyche



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dancer/college student Peter, Dancing, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Starker, Tony is Ironman, Wooing, a lot of fluff, baby corn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:53:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 62,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22466734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neuropsyche/pseuds/Neuropsyche
Summary: Tony and Rhodey dodge the press and sneak into the library where they meet Peter Parker - who immediately catches Tony's eye. But Peter isn't a one and done kind of guy and Tony's going to have to work for what he wants this time
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 239
Kudos: 882





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> New story! There honestly isn't a ton of plot in this one, but I wanted to write something fluffy and fun (and smutty, of course)

“You know, I have other things I could be doing tonight…”

Tony Stark shrugged, looking around the library.

“I _told_ you it was going to be boring,” he reminded his friend. “I _told_ you that the man didn’t have anything new to say – even though he’s spouting enough technobabble to be able to pretend to be on the cutting edge of the technology. _You_ said you wanted to come.”

“No,” Rhodey corrected. “I wanted to go to the _lecture_. I didn’t want to play _hide from the press_ with you by ducking into the library.” He looked around, too, but it was late at night on a Saturday. The place was empty. Which had been Stark’s whole reason for going there when he’d realized that a few people had recognized him at the lecture hall and were following him. “This place is kind of _creepy_ at night, isn’t it?”

“It’s a college library,” Tony pointed out, walking over and glancing out the window into the night. “Libraries are creepy places even in the daytime.”

“You spent plenty of time in them, as I recall.”

“Only because it was the best option, at the time,” Stark replied, walking around, now – more to annoy his friend than out of any desire to look around. “I have FRIDAY, now. I don’t need to go to the library. It’s archaic and… _what do we have here_ …?”

“What?”

Rhodey didn’t miss the change in his friend’s tone. An indication that he’d seen something interesting.

“Shh… come here.”

Now Tony was speaking in a stage whisper, and beckoning Rhodey with his hand, imperiously. The slighter man walked over and looked around the bookshelf to see what Tony was looking at.

“Huh.”

It was a young man, bundled in a sweatshirt sleeping at one of the study tables. There was an open book under his cheek, and a couple of others stacked beside it. They couldn’t see too much of his face, only some brown curls escaping the hood of the sweatshirt.

“Clearly someone doesn’t find it too spooky, does he?” Tony asked.

“Looks pretty comfortable,” Rhodey had to agree.

“Not _that_ comfortable. Let’s wake him up and send him home.”

“Maybe he’s waiting on someone.”

“On a Saturday night?” Tony asked, shaking his head. “He’s not in the _library_ waiting for anyone, believe me.”

The billionaire walked over to the sleeping form, with Rhodey behind him. Rhodes had to admit that he was kind of looking forward to the kid’s reaction when he saw that it was Tony Stark waking him up. He went to the other side of the table and watched while Tony put a hand on the boy’s back and shook him, slightly.

“Hey. Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Hmm?” the sound was sleepy, and Rhodey smirked. “Five more minutes, May…” the boy mumbled.

Rhodes snorted, amused. Tony rolled his eyes.

“Hey? Kid? Wake up.”

The head came up, suddenly, and the guy – who looked even younger than Rhodey thought – looked around.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Tony replied, clearly amused at the confusion. “You fell asleep. You should go home before someone starts getting worried.”

“Oh.” He blinked a few times, and looked down at his books – probably to make sure they were still there. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Tony and Rhodey both followed his gaze, and Stark picked up the open book, surprised.

“Advanced Engineering Mathematics?” he read, looking at the kid. “How _old_ are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“Wow.”

“Freshman?” Rhodey asked.

“No, I’m a sophomore.” He realized, then, who he was talking to, and his eyes widened – and Tony decided that his eyes were beautiful. “You’re Tony Stark.”

Tony smiled; everyone liked to be recognized – _especially_ Tony Stark.

“I _am_. And you are…?”

“Peter Parker. What are you doing here?”

“We came for the lecture,” Rhodey replied.

“Dr. Herbert’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Waste of time,” Peter told them, looking at his watch. “The guy hasn’t had anything new to say in six years – and keeps using the one good idea that he had as a reason to draw people in to pay to listen to him babble-.”

Tony snorted, softly, and looked at Rhodey, triumphantly.

“That was exactly what I was telling my friend, here,” he said. “But he still wanted to go.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Peter started gathering up his books.

“I’d better go.”

“Need a lift?” Tony asked, suddenly interested in continuing the conversation.

The guy was pretty smart, after all – and cute. And young enough to be his _son_ , his mind added. Maybe even a _grandson_?

“Oh. No. Thanks.”

“ _Really_?” Rhodey asked, unable to hide his surprise. Who declined a lift from Tony Stark? The kid was obviously intelligent, and an engineering student, and he had to know that Tony was brilliant – and famous, of course. “I mean… we’re _probably_ going whichever way you are.”

“I doubt it,” Peter told them. “But thank you.”

“You got a hot date?” Tony asked, also wondering why the guy seemed suddenly anxious to leave.

Peter snorted, softly, and shook his head.

“I’m going to be late for work,” he replied. “I was just going to do some studying before my shift, but I fell asleep, I gu-“

“Where do you work?” Tony interrupted.

“At the Ralto.”

“The _Ralto_?” Rhodey echoed. “Never heard of it.”

The boy shrugged, but his eyes were amused.

“I _told_ you we weren’t going the same way.”

“The Ralto’s a strip club on 12th,” Tony told Rhodey. “ _What_?” Both of them had stared at him, two sets of brown eyes equally surprised. “I’m a grown up. I can go watch people dance.” He looked at Peter. “I’ve never seen _you_ there, though,” he added.

“I’ve only been doing it a few months,” the boy told him. “Had to wait until I turned eighteen.”

“Obviously.”

Peter’s watch beeped at him, an alarm that drew his attention from Tony, especially.

“I better go. It was great meeting you, though,” he added.

“We could give you a lift,” Tony offered. “That way you’re not late.”

“No. I’m good. Thank you.”

He put his things in the backpack and left.

The two men watched him go, and Rhodey shook his head.

“That was odd.”

“You fell asleep in the library a time or two, as I recall,” Tony reminded him.

“Yeah, but not before I went to my stripper job.”

Stark shrugged.

“You’re _assuming_ , Rhodey,” he chided, as he headed for the window, once more to see if the press were gone – and to maybe catch a final view of Peter. “Maybe he isn’t a _stripper_ ; he could be a dishwasher, or a cook.”

Tony really hoped that he was a _stripper_ , though, because he was definitely going to look the kid up, again – and this way he’d know exactly where to find him.

><><><><

“You’re perilously close to being late…”

Peter nodded.

“I’m sorry. I fell asleep in the library, studying.”

His boss rolled his eyes.

“You should just drop out of school, kid,” he said – for the hundredth time. “As _pretty_ as you are? You could make a lot more dancing here than you’ll ever make being an engineer.”

“Maybe.” Peter didn’t commit to that, though. He wasn't _that_ great at dancing, really – and May and Ben had always pressed that he needed to graduate so they could have a reason to come to New York and watch him get his diploma. He enjoyed it, though, and it was an easy way to make a lot more money than he had waiting tables his Freshman year. _That_ had been rough. “I’d better go get ready.”

The boy made his way backstage, smiling a greeting to the bouncer that guarded the dressing rooms, zealously. The man was only a few years older than Peter, himself, but probably outweighed him by two hundred pounds and towered over him.

“Anything I need to know?” Peter asked.

“Same shit,” he was advised. “There’s a bachelorette party, though, in the front row – and they’re passing out fives.”

“Nice.”

Even though the place was small, it was usually busy, and it had women and men both hired as dancers, to cater to all who might enter. Peter enjoyed the women spectators, more, because while they were just as rowdy as the men (and sometimes a _lot_ rowdier) they tended to tip better, for the most part and they rarely would come to try and proposition him.

The _men_ were a bit bolder – hence the full time bouncer at the backstage entrance – and Peter already and learned that his baby face and small stature drove some men crazy. It made for good tips, sometimes, but the propositions could get a little freaky, as well. He danced well, but he was very much a novice when it came to the bedroom and had no desire to gain the education that he lacked with some wild-eyed stranger who wanted to take him to the nearest hotel and have his way with him.

Time enough to find the right guy when he would have more time to enjoy it, after all.


	2. 2

The place was small, but Tony already knew that it was. He’d been there a couple of times – not _recently_ , but whenever he wanted to go out for a night of voyeurism and didn’t want to be recognized, the Ralto was the sort of place that he went. No one expected Tony Stark to be someplace small like that. If _Tony Stark_ wanted to watch strippers, he hired a few and had them come to whatever party he might be throwing. Or he watched porn on his incredible network in the privacy of his own home.

It wasn't _always_ like that, though.

As Tony grew older and was now ( _gasp_ ) beginning to settle a little, he wanted something a little quieter and less showy. The dancers were usually good, and the Ralto was a place that had both male and female ones – which was perfect, because sometimes he wanted to see breasts and wide hips, and other times he wanted to see a cockbulge and admire a wiry, masculine, body writhing in front of him.

Just to make sure he wasn't recognized, he never dressed flashy, and usually wore a hat low over his features. He was plenty old enough that he didn’t get carded – _ever_ – and a hundred dollar bill to a cocktail server was all it took to get a seat at a table in the darker area close to the stage.

A week after the encounter with Peter Parker in the library, Tony walked into the Ralto, looking around as he was guided to a quiet place and given a seat at a small table. He’d walked in in the middle of a dance – where a lithe young woman with bleach-blonde hair was shimmying her rear toward a group of college-aged guys who were cheering her on, enthusiastically. It was fairly late in the evening, but Tony was hopeful that a) Peter was working that evening, since he’d worked that last Saturday, and b) that he hadn’t missed his dance routine.

To see what it was like, he told himself, and maybe get a chance to speak to him, again.

He’d barely been seated, and was drumming his fingers on the table, nervously?, when someone was standing next to him.

“What can I get you to drink?”

Tony looked up, surprised at the voice, and Peter recognized him the same moment.

“Mr. Stark.”

“Shh. Keep it down,” Tony told him. “I’m incognito.”

“Oh. What are you doing here?”

“I told you that I’ve come here, before.”

True.

Peter hesitated.

“Did you need a drink?”

“Are you even _old_ enough to serve me a drink?”

The boy smiled.

“I’m old enough to _serve_ it, not pour it or drink it.”

“Bring me a whiskey – neat.”

“Be right back.”

Tony watched as the boy walked away. He was wearing tight jeans which were faded and worn, perhaps, but were clinging to his rear and thighs deliciously. The shirt he was wearing was a simple white t-shirt, like the other servers (male and female) were wearing but there was no hiding the lean build. He wondered how good he looked naked, and felt himself twitch in response to his inner thoughts.

“I must be out of my mind…” Tony muttered, watching as another patron waved the boy down and ordered a drink, as well, and then slid his hand along Peter’s arm innocently (or _not_ ) as Peter moved away. “ _Bastard_.”

The last was aimed at the customer, and Tony was still frowning when Peter returned a moment later.

“You alright?” he asked, setting the drink down. “You look annoyed.”

“Do you get people touching you like that, often?”

Peter nodded.

“Sometimes. When I have to fill in as a server – like tonight. I get closer to the audience, but some of them have seen me dancing, and they think this is free for all time because I have to walk near them.”

“And you’re _alright_ with that?”

The boy smirked.

“Nope. And, luckily, my _boss_ isn’t, either. Watch.”

Peter didn’t look toward the customer, but Tony _did_ , and while the boy pretended to be wiping up a spill, the billionaire watched as two huge bouncers walked over and said something to the grabby handed customer. The man gave them an innocent look and held up his hands, but nothing doing. As Tony watched, he was bodily picked up out of his chair and escorted politely, but firmly, toward the door.

“Hands off is the rule,” Peter told Stark, smiling as he nodded at the bouncer who glanced at him when walking back from the door. “Not just _me_ , of course, but all the servers and the dancers.”

“You’re not _normally_ a server, though?”

“No. I dance. A bit.”

“Just a _bit_.”

“I haven’t been doing it long,” Peter admitted. “I took ballet when I was little, because I heard that it would help me be a better football player.”

“Did it?”

“I don’t know. I wasn't allowed to play. Too small. My aunt was worried that I’d get killed, or something. It was the only argument I ever remember her and my uncle having.”

That made Tony smile.

He’d read everything that he could find on Peter Parker – almost as soon as he’d dropped Rhodey off the Saturday before and headed home. Peter Benjamin Parker (named after his uncle but unknown where Peter came from) was from the Midwest. A corn producing farm in Iowa, to be exact, which was owned by his aunt May and Uncle Ben. Peter had incredible grades and had graduated earlier than most. He’d been awarded a grant to pay for the education that he was expected to receive at Columbia, but something had happened between the boy graduating from high school and going to Columbia. A clerical fuckup in the Oscorp company books – probably a missed question mark, or a period not where it belonged.

Whatever it had been, the financial aid wasn't where it was supposed to be, and it had screwed Peter Parker, thoroughly. And it had been too late to apply for any other scholarships. Peter had gone, anyway, and his aunt and uncle had taken a loan against their modest farm to pay for the majority of it, while Peter himself had worked his ass off holding a job and being a full-time student to make the proverbial ends meet.

His second year was apparently a little better; he’d applied for and received several scholarships – not surprisingly considering the grades that he’d pulled down his freshman year. And – apparently – now he was old enough to hold a better job that paid more than waiting tables had the year before.

“Did you even get to try out?” Tony asked.

“Nope.” Peter didn’t look too traumatized by it. “I joined band, instead.”

“What instrument?”

“Drums.” He smiled at the way Tony winced. “We lived on a farm. Corn doesn’t care if you practice all day.”

“Were you good?”

“No. I have the rhythm for ballet, but not so much for playing music, apparently.”

Tony nodded.

“Well, can’t have everything, I suppose.” He pretended a nonchalance. “But you _can_ dance, right? Not _ballet_ , I mean, but…”

“ _Exotic_?”

“Yes.”

“I can.” Peter’s eyes narrowed, slightly. “You came to see me dance.”

“What? _No_.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Peter said, smirking. “I told you where I worked, and since it’s a strip club, you hurried over-“

“That was a _week_ ago,” Tony pointed out. “I didn’t _hurry_ anywhere.”

“But you’re here,” Peter told him, his brown eyes amused. “And you haven’t been here, before, as far as I remember. Which means that the only thing that has changed is that you knew I worked here.”

“No one likes a smart-ass, Parker.”

The boy chuckled, and looked around.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Bring me another drink when you come, will you?”

Peter nodded, and walked back to the bar, while the music changed onstage and a new dancer – this one male and hugely muscled – came out to the stage dressed like a firefighter. While the man began gyrating to the beat, garnering plenty of attention from those watching, Tony watched Peter walking through the small room, delivering drinks and taking cards.

No one else touched him, Tony noticed. As a matter of fact, the patrons were all being very careful not to, just then. Him or any of the other severs – male and female.

Lesson learned, apparently.

A few minutes later, the boy was back at his little table.

“I’m not dancing, tonight,” Peter told him. “We’re short four servers, and I’m the newest dancer, so I’m serving.”

“Maybe I wanted to talk to you about _thermal dynamics_ ,” Tony told him. “Did that ever _occur_ to you?”

Peter made a show of looking under the table, and Stark frowned.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking to see if your pants are on fire.”

Tony shook his head, but he was thoroughly enjoying the verbal sparring. Even if most of it was at his expense. Peter wasn't just smart, he was witty. And cute. And so fucking young that it made Tony ache for him, there on the spot.

“I _happen_ to be telling the truth,” Tony told him. “Some of it, anyway. You’re the only person in the state that agrees with me about not bothering to go to that lecture last week – and that means that you’re obviously not _stupid_. It’s hard to find intelligent people to talk to.”

“Harder to talk to them when you’re staring at their ass,” Peter pointed out.

“I can multi-task.”

The boy chuckled, clearly enjoying himself, as well.

“I need to get back to work.”

“What time are you off?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to talk to you about thermal dynamics.”

“And stare at my ass?”

“If it doesn’t get me kicked out of here, sure.”

Peter hesitated, now. It was fun to flirt, but he wasn't as experienced with the practice as Tony was – and didn’t know where the line fell between teasing and actual want. Not that he had any real fantasy that Tony Stark was really interested in him, but it was fun to play, wasn't it?

“Let me think about it.”

“Sure.” Tony smiled, but didn’t touch the boy like he was very tempted to do. His young face had suddenly looked so serious – and uncertain – and Tony much preferred him cheerful and happy. “Flirting aside, I’d take you to get something to eat, and we could talk. I’m not expecting anything more than that.”

“Talk about thermal dynamics?”

“Or whatever you want to talk about,” Tony told him. “I’m a genius, after all. If you need help on your homework, or if there’s something you don’t understand, I could probably straighten you out on it.”

That was a good point.

“I’ll think about it,” he repeated.

“You do that.” Tony drained his drink and held up the glass. “And bring me another one of these, will you?”

“Not if you’re planning on driving me anywhere.”

The billionaire scowled, and then shrugged.

“Fair enough. Bring me a cup of coffee.”

“I’m off at one.”

Perfect.


	3. 3

Tony was waiting in his car when Peter walked out of the Ralto at 1:15 am. He flashed the headlights to get the boy’s attention, and unlocked the doors, audibly, when Peter walked over. He opened the door and got in, settling into the fine leather with a sigh.

“Tired?”

“A little. Serving is a lot harder than dancing.”

“Want me to just take you home?”

“No. It’s alright.” He thought it was nice of him to offer, though. “Thank you.”

“Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

“How about if you let me take you home, and I’ll make you something to eat?”

“My home, or yours?”

“Whichever you want.”

“I have three roommates,” he said, pointedly.

“Ugh.” Not only would he have to share Peter, presumably, but they would fanboy on him, and while Tony _enjoyed_ the attention, he didn’t want to deal with it, just then. “ _My_ place. My roommate is only an AI.”

There was a slight hesitation, but the boy finally nodded. It certainly would be more relaxed than trying to entertain Tony is his little house – with his roommates all hovering, protectively – or staring at Tony/

“Some ground rules, first, though…” Peter added as Stark started the car.

“Oh?”

“I’m not going to sleep with you.”

Tony rolled his eyes, although he was amused.

“Jesus Peter Parker, you move fast, don’t you, buddy?”

“What?”

“I just wanted to talk to you about _science_ , and here you are trying to get me into the sack.”

“No. I-“

“Let me tell you something, _pal_ …” Tony interrupted, his words firm, but his eyes amused. “I’m not just another pretty face. If you want to _sleep_ with me, you’re going to have to wine and dine me, first.”

“But, I didn’t-“

“And even then, I’m obligated to point out that you’re not actually old enough to purchase wine – which means that you’ll have to ask me to buy it for you.”

“I don’t drink.”

“Then it’s going to be _tricky_ getting me into the sack, isn’t it?”

Peter snorted, amused.

“Yes.”

“Any other ground rules?” Tony asked, pleased with himself at having teased the boy – and that he’d apparently enjoyed it.

“You can’t stare at my ass. It makes me uncomfortable when people do that.”

“Can I stare at it if you don’t catch me doing it?” Tony asked. “If you don’t know I’m doing it, it won’t make you uncomfortable, right?”

“I _suppose_.”

“Fair enough.” Tony shifted the car into gear and pulled out onto the road. “I have rules, too, you know?”

“What rules?”

“You can’t brag to your friends about hanging out with me. I don’t want to be ambushed, next time I come here.”

“ _Ever_?”

“For the foreseeable future.”

“Fair.”

“And you can’t grab my ass without warning.”

Peter snorted.

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

“But if you warn me, first, then it’s all good.”

“Got it.”

><><<><>

“Nice place…”

Tony nodded, shutting the door behind them as he escorted Peter into his apartment. His very large penthouse apartment.

“Thank you. Make yourself at home.”

Peter looked around the open floor space, noting the leather sofa, the huge gas fireplace and the flatscreen above it and settled on the baby grand piano. He walked over and brushed his hand along the polished finish.

“Can you play? Or is this just a prop?”

“I was forced into lessons when I was little. I gave it up as soon as I was old enough to stand up to my mother, but as I got older, I found it’s a good way to destress, sometimes.”

The boy nodded, leaning over just enough to tap a couple of the keys, experimentally.

“My mom played, I’m told,” he said. “I don’t remember her doing it, but my aunt and uncle both have mentioned it to me.”

“Aunt and uncle, huh?”

Tony knew that Peter had been raised by Ben and May Parker after the death of his parents at a very young age, but he didn’t care to admit to Peter that he’d checked his history. Besides, it was a good way to break whatever ice there might still be between them.

“Yeah. My folks were killed in a plane crash when I was a kid.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you.”

Aware that the atmosphere in the apartment was much more maudlin than he wanted, Tony changed the subject.

“Hungry?”

“Yes, I could eat.”

Peter seemed relieved at the change of conversation, as well, and he followed Tony into the kitchen, where he was seated, theatrically, at the island.

“What do you like?”

“Toast?”

Stark frowned.

“That’s _it_?”

“With peanut butter, if you have it?”

Tony turned and pulled some bread from the bread box, and opened the pantry door.

“I could make you an omelet,” he said. “Something more filling.”

“I _like_ toast.”

“You don’t like eggs?”

“Not at two in the morning. Eggs are something you have for breakfast.”

“And toast isn’t?”

“Toast is ubiquitous.”

“Huh.”

Peter smiled.

“Sorry.”

“No need to be.” Tony opened his fridge while waiting for the toaster. “ _I’m_ going to make eggs, though.”

“Okay.”

The billionaire was adept in the kitchen, Peter noted; watching as Tony made the toast that Peter had requested – and found some chunky peanut butter to spread on it before presenting it to the boy on a crystal saucer. At the same time, he scrambled some eggs, mixing them with bacon and sausage and making himself some toast, as well.

“So… tell me about yourself,” Tony requested, settling in beside Peter on a barstool. “Where are you from?”

“Iowa.”

“Really? Farm kid? Or city kid?”

“Farm. Corn, to be precise.”

“Wow. I don’t know that I’ve ever actually _met_ someone from Iowa.”

The boy smiled.

“Here I am.”

“Here you are, indeed.” Tony gave him a look. “Fresh off the farm and gutsy enough to let a total stranger take him home.”

“Not a total stranger,” Peter disagreed. “I mean, everyone knows the name Tony Stark.”

“But no one knows you’re here, right? With _me_ , I mean?”

“No.” he shrugged. “You’re Ironman, though, right? _Should_ I be worried?”

“Of course not. But I could be a closet serial killer.”

“I left a note in my locker at work that I was leaving with you,” Peter admitted. “I didn’t figure anyone there would believe me if I told them what I was up to and who I was going to leave with, but if something _did_ happen, whoever cleared out my things would have found the note and at least given the police a place to start looking for me.”

Rather than be offended, Tony smiled, and reached out and tousled Peter’s hair, cheerfully.

“That’s good thinking. Good for you.”

“Do you pick up people and bring them back here, often?” Peter asked, running his fingers through his hair to straighten it – although his curls made it impossible to flatten them, completely.

“Never. I like my privacy too much for that. _You_ are an exception to my rule – because you seem to be an exceptional young man, and I wanted to learn more about you.”

“Why?”

“Like I said earlier; you agreed with me about the lecture. It doesn’t necessarily _prove_ anything, but any idiot can see that you’re smart. And young. And _very_ pretty. Those are all things that interest me.”

“Yeah?”

Tony noticed that he seemed pleased by the compliment. Which wasn't always the case when it came to calling a male pretty, he knew. He filed that away for future conversations.

“Of course.” Tony smiled, taking a bite of his toast. “You probably get hit on all the time, though, working where you do – and they must call you pretty.”

“Most of the clientele there have given me signals of varying degrees of subtle,” Peter admitted, popping the last bite of toast into his mouth. He’d eaten it fast, because he’d been hungrier than he thought. “Not in the building, of course, since that’s a great way to get booted. But I’ve definitely had some proposals of all sorts. They don’t care that I’m smart, though. That isn’t what they’re interested in. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Tony gestured to the empty plate. “More?”

“No. Thank you. It was good.”

“Toast isn’t complicated, honey,” Tony told him.

He took the empty saucer and his empty plate and set them in the sink.

“Let’s go to the couch.”

Peter nodded and walked over, sitting first, and watching as Stark joined him. If the younger man was surprised when Tony kicked off his shoes and seated himself on the other end, leaving plenty of space between the two, he didn’t show it. He liked the fact that Stark wasn't being pushy. It helped him relax, further, into the soft leather of the sofa.

“What’s the craziest proposition you’ve ever had?” Tony asked him.

Peter blushed, slight.

“I had a guy offer me $500 for a blowjob…”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“And…?”

The boy smiled, self-consciously.

“I turned him down. I really could have used the money, but I would have definitely regretted it. Besides, he didn’t know I was only seventeen, at the time, and when I told him he panicked and backed off, saying he was just kidding.”

“That was last year?” Tony asked. “Not when you were dancing?”

“Yes. I was waiting tables and the guy was a regular of mine.”

“And he was willing to pay you $500 to give him a blowjob?”

Tony was shocked, really. That was a lot of money for something so simple. But he had $500 laying around somewhere. The thought made him twitch, just a little, and he shifted on the sofa. Peter wasn't seventeen, now, after all.

Peter smiled, though, and shook his head – and now he was blushing, outright.

“He wanted me to let him give _me_ one,” he corrected.

“Seriously?”

“Yes. Said he liked young meat, or something like that.”

“Wow…”

The billionaire knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help himself. Peter took it in stride, though, but he was ready to change the subject.

“Tell me something about you,” he said. “Something the rest of the world doesn’t know.”

Tony Stark was famous, of course, and Peter happened to know a lot about him, but he didn’t want to be the only one talking.

Tony shrugged, making a show of thinking hard.

“I play chess. I play the piano, and I collect seashells.”

“Oh.”

“You?”

“I play chess. I play the drums, and until last year, I’d never seen the ocean – and I’ve never _seen_ a seashell in real life.”

“Really? How do you go to the beach and not see a seashell?”

“I haven’t _been_ to the beach,” Peter admitted. “I didn’t have time, last year, and even though I promised it would be different, this year, I’ve still been pretty busy. Maybe next year.”

“Busy with school?”

“And working.” He shrugged and gave Tony a very brief version of the story that the billionaire already knew. There was no recrimination in the boy’s tone when he told the older man about the grant falling through – through no fault of his own – and just how hard he’d worked to get through the freshman year at college. Not on his own, because his aunt and uncle seemed like amazing people, determined that he succeed, but with very little else to get him through. “This year I have scholarships,” Peter finished. “But I’m working my ass off, too, because I want to get some money back to May and Ben before it becomes a hardship to them to have helped me.”

“They probably don’t see it as a hardship,” Tony pointed out.

“No. They don’t. You’re right. But it _is_. Even if they never admit it.”

“I can respect that.” Stark nudged him with a foot. “You play chess?”

“Yes.”

“Are you any _good_ at it?”

“Yes.”

“Want to play?”

“Sure.”

Tony got up and went to get his board, along with the pieces. Not surprisingly, Peter saw that it was an expensive looking set up; black onyx pieces and pristine marble white ones. The board was made of the same materials.

“Care to make it interesting?” Tony asked, setting the board on the table and handing Peter the white pieces.

“Interesting how?” The boy hadn’t missed that he’d given him the white.

Generally that color was given to the weaker player, since it allowed them to go first.

“A simple bet. Nothing too crazy…”

“I’m _listening_.”

“I win, you dance for me – not tonight, but sometime. And just me.”

Peter hesitated.

“And if _I_ win?”

“I’ll take you to the beach, tomorrow, and find you a seashell.”

“I have to work, tomorrow.”

“You don’t have classes, though, correct?”

“Right.”

“When do you work?”

“Seven.”

“Until one?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I don’t think we really need to worry, since you don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of beating me. But if, by some stroke of luck, you _do_ , we could go and be back in plenty of time.”

“I have some classwork to finish.”

“I’ll help you with it,” Tony promised. He gave the boy one of his best looks. One that he practiced in the mirror, sometimes. “You’re not _chicken_ , are you?”

Peter rolled his eyes, amused, and shrugged.

“You’ll owe me lunch, too,” he added.

“Sure.”

The older man smiled, watching as Peter pulled his king side knight out.

“You’re on.”


	4. 4

“That’s mate,” Peter said. “Good game.”

Tony scowled.

“Don’t condescend me.”

The boy’s eyes widened, innocently – and Tony’s narrowed, amused but hiding it fairly well.

“What? I just said good game. It _was_.”

“Not as good as the _first_ one.”

It was Peter’s turn to show his annoyance. The first game they’d played, he’d lost. It had been close, but Tony was a good player and had set him up before the boy had caught the trap to his queen. Even then, he’d managed to make it a contest before admitting defeat. This game hadn’t even been close, and Peter would have suspected that Tony let him win, if not for the new bet they’d made over the outcome.

Double or nothing had been Peter’s suggestion, but Tony had shaken his head.

“I want that dance,” he’d told him. “And you’re a good enough player that I’m not going to chance losing it. We’ll play another, but not for that.”

“We _could_ just play for fun…”

Tony had rolled his eyes at that suggestion.

“It’s already fun,” he’d pointed out. “Betting makes it more interesting.”

“Well? What do you want to play for?”

“You win, I’ll still take you to the beach. And not only will I buy you lunch, but I’ll let you choose the place.”

“And if you lose,” Peter had said. “ _You_ have to dance for _me_.”

That had brought the billionaire up short, and Tony had hesitated, although he’d tried to hide it.

“A strip dance?”

Peter shrugged.

“You could try ballet, I suppose – if you want. You’d probably look amazing in tights.”

“I’d look amazing in anything,” Tony had retorted, and then shrugged. “Fine. You manage to beat me, and I’ll dance for you.”

“Twice.”

><><>

Tony looked at his watch as they picked up the chess pieces.

“It’s getting late.”

Peter nodded, taking the hint.

“I’d better go.” The boy smiled and set the chess pieces aside. “This was fun. Thanks.”

“You don’t have to go.” He rolled his eyes at the uncertain expression on the boy’s face. “Don’t look at me like that. I meant; I have a guest room – or you can sack out on the couch. That way I don’t have to put my shoes on to take you home. Jesus, Parker, get your mind out of the gutter, will you?”

“It won’t be weird?” Peter asked, smiling at the way Tony was working to keep him from being uncomfortable.

He appreciated it.

“It’d be inconvenient if I have to take you home at 3 am and then come pick you up, again, later, so we can go to the beach, right?”

“I could take the bus.”

Tony rolled his eyes and stood up.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s called a guestroom for a reason. Go make sure there’s nothing missing that you might need, and I’ll find something for you to sleep in. Unless you prefer to sleep naked?”

Peter blushed, slightly, but shook his head.

“Not usually, no.”

He was tired, though; the long day of schoolwork and work – and then staying up late conversing with Tony was catching up to him. While the older man vanished into presumably his own room, Peter walked to the guestroom door and opened it, looking in, curiously. It was well appointed; huge, comfortable looking bed, dresser, nightstand and TV. There was a door slightly ajar that led to the bathroom.

“Look okay?”

He started when Tony appeared behind him, and grinned, sheepishly, looking over his shoulder.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Stark handed him a bundle of clothing.

“Help yourself if there's anything you need – or come ask me, if you can’t find it.”

“Thank you.”

Tony nodded and left him standing at the door, and Peter walked into the room, carrying the clothing – which turned out to be a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Peter stripped down to his boxers and pulled on the sweats, leaving the t-shirt sitting on the stand by the bed. Then he wandered into the bathroom, was surprised to see a brand new toothbrush and paste sitting on the sink along with other toiletries that would definitely come in handy.

Less than ten minutes later, Peter was back in the room, and sliding under the warm comforter, stretching out in the most comfortable bed that he’d ever been in. He reached over and turned off the lamp, and was asleep in only moments.

><><><><

“How’s he doing?”

_“He’s asleep.”_

“That didn’t take long.”

_“It’s late_ ,” FRIDAY pointed out. _“Go to sleep.”_

“I could work on the new project with the-“

_“If you sleep you’ll be able to enjoy his company better, tomorrow.”_

True.

Tony rolled his eyes, undressed and went to bed – much earlier than he normally might have.

Despite the late hour.

><><><><><><

A hand on his shoulder woke him from a restful sleep. The first restful sleep that he could remember having in a long time. Tony opened his eyes, confused, and found himself looking up at a set of smiling brown eyes – attached to a face that he was already addicted to, really.

“Good morning…”

Stark smiled back, and reached up to brush his fingers against Peter’s cheek.

“Good morning. Everything okay?”

Maybe he needed something?

“Yeah. It’s just getting late, and I thought I might wake you so you can decide if you really want to go do something with me, or if I should go home and let you get some more sleep.”

“No. I want to do something with you.” A _lot_ of somethings, he realized. “How long have you been awake?”

“A while.” Peter was only wearing the borrowed sweats, Tony realized, and he ran his hand, sleepily, along the boy’s bare chest and stomach. Peter allowed it, but when Tony’s hand drifted lower, he moved away. “I’m used to going to bed late and getting up early.”

The billionaire nodded, and let his hand fall to the bedding, realizing what he’d done, and checking Peter’s expression to see if he looked offended by what might have easily been construed as a pass. He wasn't, luckily.

“Let me wake up a bit and I’ll make us some breakfast.”

“You get ready and I’ll make breakfast,” Peter offered.

“I want more than peanut butter on toast.”

“I can do that.”

“Alright. Thanks.”

The boy turned, heading for the door, and Tony watched in appreciation at his lean, muscular body and the way that even the baggy sweats clung to his rear just right.

“No staring at my ass,” Peter told him, without turning around. “Remember?”

“I wasn't staring,” Stark lied.

“Uh huh. Ten minutes.”

Peter vanished, and Tony rolled onto his back, stretching and looking up at the ceiling. He’d never actually expected to have the boy stay overnight – and certainly hadn’t expected him to sleep anywhere but in his own bed if he _did_ stay – but he had thoroughly enjoyed the evening before, and was looking forward to what the day would bring.

_“Nine minutes,”_ FRIDAY pointed out, breaking Tony out of his daydream and making him frown – although it was only for a minute.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m working on it. Make sure he doesn’t burn down the kitchen, will you?” he asked, rolling out of bed and heading for the bathroom.

><><><><

“This is _good_.”

Peter smiled.

“You sound surprised.”

“Who taught you how to cook? Your aunt?”

“My _uncle_. May isn’t a very good cook, so she leaves all of the cooking up to Ben – and she does the dishes.”

“That sounds fair.”

“It works for them,” Peter agreed. “Luckily, Ben taught me how to cook, so that if he had to work late during harvest time, we wouldn’t starve.”

“If you can cook like this why are you eating peanut butter and toast?”

“Because it’s cheap – and I _like_ peanut butter and toast. When I was little, that was May’s specialty when she made breakfast. So it’s special to me.”

That made Tony smile.

“They sound like great people.”

“They are,” Peter agreed. He turned his attention to the meal; eggs Benedict which he’d thrown together with the ingredients that he’d found in the fridge. “They really stepped up for me, taking me in when my folks died. I want to make them proud.”

“They have to be proud of you,” Tony assured him. “You’re bright, and responsible – obviously. Working and holding down your grades? _I’m_ proud of you, and I barely know you.”

The boy smiled, shyly – and Tony had to stifle the effect the look had on him. Now wasn't the time to get an erection, but sure as shit his underwear were suddenly getting tight.

“Thank you.”

The older man smiled and shrugged.

“You’re welcome. What’s the plan for today?”

“Are you really going to take me to the beach?”

“I plan to, yes. Why not? It’ll be fun.”

“Don’t you have any billionaire superhero things to do?”

“Nope.” Stark shrugged, again. “One of the good things about being rich is that I can usually work my schedule to suit myself. Except for some mandatory meetings that I just can’t get out of, sometimes.”

“And being _Ironman_?”

“Means I am on call all the time,” he admitted. “If something comes up, I go. But Ironman isn’t something that I have to train for with the others – so I don’t have to go run drills with them, or anything like that. Although I do tend to check in with them, occasionally. My day is free to spend with you. If you’re interested.”

“I work at seven,” Peter reminded him.

“Can I come watch you dance?”

It was the boy’s turn to shrug, but he looked pleased at the request and he didn’t hide it.

“You’re not going to want to stay there all night, believe me. After you’ve seen one performance, you’ll be bored if you stick around and wait for us to go through the rotation more than that.”

“How often do you dance?” Tony asked, curiously.

“Twice an hour.”

“Do you get paid by performance?”

He’d never actually talked to the few strippers that he’d slept with, after all. Just taken them to a hotel, had a good time with them, made sure they were set and had gone home.

“Per hour,” Peter told him. “Plus all the tips I get, of course. It’s fairer that way, in case I have to be a server, instead of dance. Or if we have more groups in that request one of the others – male or female.”

“Makes sense. So we can spend the rest of the morning, and this afternoon, together at the beach. Then I’ll take you to work.”

“I’ll need to go home, too, so I can change into some clean clothes.”

“Can I bring you home with me, again, tonight?”

The boy smiled, but shook his head.

“I have classes tomorrow morning, and I haven’t even started working on my homework. I can’t stay up late goofing off, or I’m going to be a zombie, tomorrow.”

“I’ll help you with your classwork,” Tony assured him. “No goofing off until it’s done – and I’ll make sure you get to bed at a decent time. I’ll even take you to class, tomorrow.”

“I shouldn’t.”

He was tempted, though – especially the idea of having Tony Stark help him with his school work. Who wouldn’t be tempted? The guy was a genius, after all.

Tony saw that, and pressed.

“Come on, Peter…” he asked, stepping up and giving the boy his best hopeful eyes. He’d practiced that one in the mirror a time or two, also. “Please spend time with me? How am I going to get to know you better if you go home, tonight? Besides, you still owe me a private dance. Don’t forget.”

“You owe me two…”

“And I will pay up, gladly.” He reached out and put his hand with almost painful nonchalance onto Peter’s where it was resting on the island. “But you have to be _here_ to collect, because I’m not dancing for your roommates.”

“No funny business?”

He hadn’t moved his hand out from under Tony’s, but he hadn’t taken hold of the older man’s, either.

“I promise.”

“And I can trust you?”

“I’m _Ironman_ …”

Peter smirked.

“You’re also Tony Stark,” the boy pointed out. “And I can read. Even in Iowa we know about you.”


	5. 5

Tony’s expression grew pained. The sins of his past weren’t something he’d ever thought he’d someday regret. Of course, a lot of times, he hadn’t really thought that he’d _live_ to regret them, in the first place. Other times he’d been too drunk or high to care what the world might think of him. Now, though, he was definitely regretting them. Not necessarily because he’d done the things that he’d done; most of the time _he_ was the only one he was hurting (although not always) but because it gave Peter a real reason to be skeptical – even though the boy was being gentle about it.

He was just making a point.

“I’m not the asshole that I used to be,” Stark said.

“No?”

Peter’s eyes were watching his, but there was no malice in them. Tony supposed it was a midwestern thing; to be willing to give him the benefit of the doubt when he was sure anyone in New York would still be suspicious. He had a feeling that Peter would take him at his word – or at least believe him until he gave him a reason not to.

And not because he was Ironman.

“Nope.” He forced his tone to be light-hearted. “I’ll prove it.”

The boy finally nodded.

“Alright.”

“Great. Good.” Tony was confused by just how relieved and happy he was at the capitulation. Peter wasn't _that_ amazing, after all, was he? Was he really so interested in getting to know him that he was ready to practically beg the boy to spend time with him? So willing to turn on the charm – and keep his hands to himself? He could always go find a stripper that would welcome him into his or her bed with very little effort. But not a _genius_ stripper who was someday going to be an engineer. And not someone with Peter’s sense of humor – and someone who didn’t seem to be in awe of him. He patted the hand he was still touching before moving it away. “If you’re finished eating, I’ll take care of the dishes while you go change into something that’s less tempting.”

He was still dressed only in the too baggy sweats, after all, and that chest and those abs begged to have Tony’s hand running along them.

Peter smiled at that.

“I won’t be long.”

He was looking forward to the upcoming day – and not just because he’d never been to the beach, before.

><><><><

They decided to stop by Peter’s, first. That way the boy could pick up his clothes for work, and for the next day, could get his schoolwork and also reassure his roommates that he was fine, since he hadn’t come home the night before.

“You want to come in?” the boy asked Tony when the flashy car pulled up outside a tiny house that was in the shadow of a much larger apartment building.

“No. I don’t feel like dealing with nosy roommates, just yet. I’ll hide in my car, behind my tinted windows, thank you very much.”

Peter smiled.

“They aren’t too bad,” he said. “But _Molly_ is a huge fan of Ironman, so yeah, you’d probably be gawked at a bit.”

“Molly?” Tony echoed. “You have a female roommate?”

In a house of males?

“ _All_ my roommates are female,” Peter told him.

“How did you manage that?”

“I was lab partner with Jana last year. She found out I didn’t have a place to stay and brought me home with her to introduce me to the others as a potential fourth. They agreed, and I moved into Molly’s room with her. When the school year started, they made sure I still needed a place before they put an ad out for a roommate, and I jumped at it.”

“You share a room with Molly?”

“Yeah.”

“And a _bed_?”

Peter smiled and shook his head.

“We have twin beds. She has a girlfriend and is very much not interested in my own charms. But she’s clean and tidy and isn’t really home all that often, so sometimes I have the room to myself.”

“Huh.”

“Don’t knock it,” Peter chided, misunderstanding his expression for disapproval. “It’s affordable, now, and was a godsend last year when I was struggling so much.”

“I believe it.” Tony shrugged. “Go get what you need for tonight and tomorrow – and if they’re home tell them you’re safe but please don’t tell them that I’m out here.”

Peter nodded and left the car, and Tony watched as he vanished into the house. He pulled out his phone, more than willing to be patient. There was always something to occupy himself while he waited.

><><><><>>

“Are you warm enough?”

Peter nodded, pulling his hood up to protect his ears and the back of his neck from the breeze that had sprung up, unexpectantly, almost as soon as they were out of the car and heading for the sand.

The beach was almost deserted, despite being the weekend. Mainly because it was a chilly day and the wind was biting. There were a few people fishing from some rocks along one part of the shoreline, but aside from that, he and Tony had the place to themselves.

“Yes. Thanks. I didn’t know it would be so windy. They don’t show _that_ in the movies…”

“It isn’t, always,” Stark assured him, forcing himself not to put his arm around the young man, despite the fact that it would have been mostly innocent, just to keep him warmer and to protect him from the breeze. “But it can be, yes. A thousand miles with nothing to keep it in check but a few birds and little islands.”

Peter shivered, slightly, and walked down to the water, which was lapping at the sand and rocks. There was a lot of white foam, as well, but he didn’t see what he was looking for.

“Where do you find the seashells?” he asked, curiously. “Do you dig them up?”

“Not usually.” Tony looked around. “You find them laying around. Come on, we’ll go look.”

“Alright.”

Peter was willing to allow Tony to take the lead in the shell hunting since he didn’t have a clue, but Tony couldn’t help but smile when he noticed that as they started walking, the boy was sidled right up against his side, either consciously or subconsciously trying to stay warm and using his larger body as a windbreak.

“Tell me about the school work you brought with you,” Tony said, still watching the ground in front of them, but hooking his arm through Peter’s elbow, lightly, so the younger man could let him go if he wasn't comfortable with the position, or could press closer if he wanted. “Is it something you need help with because you don’t understand it? Or just something you need a chance to actually work on getting done?”

Peter shook his head.

“It’s not too complicated, really. I just need to work on it.” He inched a little closer to Tony, accepting and appreciating the man’s willingness to let him invade his personal bubble to keep warm. It was chilly, and he should have worn more than just a sweatshirt. “I’ve just been a little distracted the last day or so.”

Tony snorted.

“A _good_ distraction?”

“I think so. I’ll let you know, later.”

><><><>

They had a good day together, despite the chill of the afternoon. As far as Tony was concerned, he’d have liked it if it had started to rain, or something. Peter was walking close to him, already. Add in a few raindrops and maybe he could have put an arm around the boy – to keep him _warm_ , of course. They walked along the beach for almost two hours before they finally called a halt to their unsuccessful search for any shells – although Peter had found a few pretty rocks, and Tony had picked up a small piece of driftwood.

“What are you going to do with that?” Peter had asked, curiously, when Stark put it in his pocket.

“Depends on what it looks like when I get it home. I might try carving it.”

“That’s a thing?”

“For some people, they make a living doing it,” Tony told him. “For _me_ … I carved a dog, once, although it wasn't very convincing. More like a blob with ears and a tail. But it’s something to do to keep my hands busy when my mind won’t shut off.”

“I get like that,” Peter told him. “But I doodle.”

“Anything good?”

The boy smiled and shook his head.

“Usually I just write out laws of physics, or math calculations… nothing too interesting.”

“No _real_ drawing then?” Tony teased, gently. “You’re not a budding Picasso?”

“Did he make stick figures?”

Stark chuckled.

“Some look like that, really.”

They headed back to the car, and by then even Tony was glad to be out of the wind – and he’d been wearing a light jacket that was warmer than the sweatshirt Peter had on. He turned the engine on and put the heater on high, and Peter rubbed his hands together, expectantly.

“It’s earlier than I thought we’d be,” the older man said, looking at his watch. “Why don’t we go get some takeout somewhere, go back to my place and work on your schoolwork, _now_? That way we don’t have to do it, tonight, when you’re tired from working?”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

He was looking forward to it, actually.


	6. 6

They stopped and picked up a pizza and then headed to Tony’s. Peter was warmer, by then – probably from holding the pizza as they’d driven back to the apartment – and he handed the box to the billionaire while he carried the backpack that he’d packed. His schoolwork and a change of clothes – including something to sleep in that night.

They settled at the kitchen island, and Tony portioned out the plates and napkins and then the pizza, while Peter pulled out his work. Over the course of the casual meal, Tony found that Peter didn’t _really_ need much help with his studies. He understood what he was doing and knew what the professors were asking him to do. There were a few times that Tony added some insight into the problem the boy might be working on, but he was definitely more than capable of getting it done without any help – even from someone as brilliant as Tony Stark.

“You’re an impressive young man,” Tony told him as they were wrapping things up and the leftover pizza was bagged and put in the fridge. “I’ve _told_ you that, right?”

Peter smiled.

“Thank you.”

“I’m not saying that just to make you happy,” Stark told him. “You know that, right? You’re smart as fuck, Peter. Why are you _dancing_ , instead of interning, or something?”

“Internships are usually unpaid – and very competitive. I’m a sophomore and unproven. I need the money. When I’m out of school, and I have May and Ben paid back, I’ll be in a better position to be able to look into something different. Right now, I’m holding my own.”

“And doing a great job of it,” Tony agreed.

He wanted to offer to just give Peter whatever money he needed, but he didn’t. For one thing, the boy wasn't going to just take money from him. He was working and managing things on his own, and he was clearly proud of himself – despite (or maybe because of) how tough it was. He didn’t need a handout. Besides, Tony didn’t want to insult Peter, or make him think that he was trying to gain his favor by giving him money, or playing the role of sugar daddy.

That would have implied that he expected a favor in return for the money, and they’d already discussed how Peter had reacted to someone else offering him money in return for sex. Tony was definitely interested in a physical relationship with Peter (and more and more interested with each passing hour, it seemed) but he wanted to have it on their own terms. He’d love to be a sugar daddy to Peter, but was instinctively aware that Peter didn’t want to be a sugar baby.

He wanted to be an equal.

Which made things a bit more difficult for the billionaire, of course, because he wasn't used to that. Not in a bedmate. He was well aware that he was a genius, and a lot smarter than pretty much the rest of the world. That was just how it was, and how it always had been. The fact that he’d found someone who could ( _possibly_ ) have the potential to be at least intelligent enough to hold real conversations with was as compelling to him as the fact that that brilliant mind was also attached to such an attractive body, and an independent spirit.

Tony was used to loving them and leaving them when he had used them, and he’d initially intended for Peter to be simply another conquest. But now, he was finding that the chasing was just as enthralling as the idea of having him in his bed. Well, maybe not _that_ enthralling, but close.

The boy smiled at the compliment, because he knew that was what Tony had meant it to be. And that meant a lot, coming from someone like Stark.

“I had fun, today. Thank you.”

That made Tony smile, too.

“You’re welcome. Believe it or not, I had fun, today, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course.” The older man shrugged. “Spend a weekend day walking on the beach looking for seashells? Unheard of, really. Not only do I not really allow myself time to do something so frivolous, but I don’t have anyone to do it with.”

“What about your friend in the library?”

“That’s War Machine. James Rhodey.”

Peter looked impressed.

“Wow.”

“Yeah, wow, but he’s in the military and we don’t hang out like we used to.”

“Did you date him?”

“No. Unfortunately, I’m not his type.”

“He likes his guys ugly and dumb?” Peter asked with a smirk.

A smirk that made Tony chuckle.

“He likes his guys with a _vagina_.”

Peter laughed, and gathered up his papers and put them in his backpack to make sure he didn’t lose them. He looked at his watch.

“We have an hour or so before we need to get me to work,” he told Tony.

“What would you normally be doing, right about now?”

“Resting up for my night.”

“Then that’s what you should be doing,” the older man said, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet as he got off the chair. “Come with me, Peter Parker.”

Peter didn’t resist, and he allowed Tony to lead him into the living room where he was gently pushed down onto the couch.

“What are we doing?”

“We’re going to rest and relax,” Tony answered, sitting down as well – and unlike the evening before, he was a little closer to Peter. “Although I will remind you that you do owe me a dance, still. Not right now, but later.”

“You might change your mind once you see me dance, if you stick around to watch.”

“Oh, I’m sticking around,” Tony assured him, taking off his shoes and then laying back to sprawl on the sofa, before he put his feet in Peter’s lap, playfully. “And I’m going to bring a stack of one-dollar bills.”

“Good.” Peter leaned back into the back of the sofa, relaxing a little. “I could use some good tips.” He smiled and slid his hand, lightly, along Tony’s ankle. And I will remind you, by the way, that you owe me _two_ dances.”

“Yeah.” Tony closed his eyes. “FRIDAY? If I fall asleep make sure I’m awake in time to get Peter to work.”

_“Will do.”_

Peter sat up, looking around, wildly.

“What was that?”

Tony opened his eyes, looking at the boy.

“How do you not know about FRIDAY?”

“FRIDAY?”

“My AI. Pretty much the brain behind my brains. Every _true_ Ironman fan knows about FRIDAY. Say hi to Peter, baby.”

_“Hello, Peter.”_

“It’s an AI?”

“ _She_ is,” Tony emphasized the pronoun. “She’s in every incarnation of my Ironman suit and runs all the systems and analysis boards.”

“And she’s in your house?”

“She runs the appliances and the systems here, too,” Tony told him, relaxing and closing his eyes, again, and nudging the boy with his foot. “Relax, okay? She’s a much nicer person than I am, and you’re beginning to like me, right?”

“Maybe.” Peter allowed himself to relax, again, but he was looking around the apartment, now. “Where’s her interface?”

“It’s digital. To keep anyone from being able to hardwire hack her.”

_“As if anyone could,”_ that same female voice said, confidently.

“Wow. That’s amazing. She’s fully quantum reactive?”

“And then some, really,” Tony agreed, not opening his eyes. “She’s self learning, and can anticipate.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It’s necessary, really, in the suit. Especially when I have half a dozen bad guys trying to shoot me out of the sky all at once. FRIDAY can check them all off and help me decide which one has the best chance so we can dodge that one, first.”

“That’s really impressive.”

Tony opened his eyes, again, and ran his foot along Peter’s stomach, still just teasing him, really, and enjoying his reaction to the tech that was FRIDAY.

“I’m an impressive guy, Peter,” the billionaire told him. “I’ll be the first to tell you that.”

_“And sometimes the_ only _one,”_ FRIDAY added, making Tony roll his eyes, and Peter chuckle.


	7. 7

“You can’t come in with me.”

“Why not? You’re not embarrassed to be seen with me, are you?”

He was only half joking, really when he said it, though – well aware that he was a lot older than Peter, and maybe the boy didn’t want to be seen with grandpa…

They were in Tony’s car, parked in the Ralto parking lot, and before Tony could even shut off the car, Peter had spoken up. They were both fairly refreshed, having simply hung out on the sofa for the hour that they had until it had been time for Tony to take Peter to work. Mostly they’d discussed FRIDAY, since Peter was fascinated by how impressive she was, and Tony was always willing to discuss how amazing anything that he built or programmed was.

“Of course not,” Peter assured him, smiling – and resting his hand just for a moment on Tony’s leg to pat it. “I went to the beach with you, right?”

“But-“

“Do you _really_ want to cause a spectacle?”

Tony sighed. That made sense, unfortunately. No one inside would actually see them getting out of the expensive car, but if he walked into the place with Peter, people would probably look over at them, and would notice Peter, first, but would then use that double-take and probably recognize Tony, as well. And that _would_ cause a spectacle, he knew.

People would be focused on him, then, and it would ruin the night for the dancers – not to mention that he wouldn’t get to see Peter dance, either.

“Being famous sucks, sometimes…”

Another pat on the leg, and another smile – almost tender, Tony thought.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ll see you inside, all right?”

“Yeah. Have fun.”

Peter got out of the car, and Tony watched him until he went into the building. Then he started the car, again, and drove around until he found a cash machine. He was probably going to want a few more bills than he had on him, just then. Smiling in anticipation, he drove back to the club, parked the car again, stopped long enough to grab the hat that would help disguise his features, and went inside.

><><><><

The place wasn't too crowded; it was a Sunday evening, after all, but Tony asked for the same shadowed table that he’d had the last time, even though there were plenty of places closer to the stage area. A server brought him a drink when he asked for it, and he settled in to watch the other performers, although he was really only interested in one.

Four dancers (three women and one man) did their routines before the music changed, again, and it was Peter who pranced out under the spotlight, next. Tony sat up, immediately, putting the phone that he’d been glancing at back in his pocket.

Peter was dressed in a pair of black leather pants. Tight enough to be second skin and Tony’s attention was almost automatically drawn to the bulge in the front of them. _Yum_. The boy was bare-chested, but wearing a vest that matched the pants; leather and black, and no shoes. He was clearly a favorite to a few of the women, because the small group off to the other side of Tony gave a cheer, which made Peter smile.

That made _Tony_ smile, too.

Peter was graceful, and it showed in every move that he made. He _wasn't_ an old pro, Tony could see, immediately (and he’d seen enough strippers to know) but he was enthusiastic, and cheerful, and his ballet background actually showed in some of the turns that he made as he gyrated to the music, and made each person watching him think that he was dancing only for them.

Tony forced his attention to the crowd, interested in seeing their reaction, and he wasn't surprised to see more than one male in the audience also leaning forward, waving a few bills toward Peter, who smiled at them, as well, and nodded an acknowledgement to them, but didn’t move toward anyone, yet. He was still getting to the climax of the dance – although the vest was tossed aside, revealing that chest and those abs that Tony had already fallen for.

Some bills were tossed onto the stage near Peter’s feet in appreciation of the show of flesh, and now the boy slid his hands down his thighs, looking at a couple of rowdier women in the group, questioningly. They cheered, and made beckoning motions with their hands and arms, and in an instant the breakaway pants were suddenly pulled off, leaving Peter with only a black leather thong.

“Jesus…” Tony murmured, feeling more than a slight twitch in his crotch at the sight of the boy.

His hand slid, automatically down to his groin, and he scowled, hiding the motion (although there was no way in hell anyone was watching him with Peter now turned away from them, his ass waving in front of the crowd and his pretty face looking back at them over his shoulder) by reaching for his pocket and the small wad of bills there.

Peter worked his way through the audience, now, stopping long enough to allow women (and men) to tuck a bill here and there in his thong, while other bills went to the stage floor, as well. Tony saw that the no touch rule didn’t apply quite as stringently when Peter was dancing, because more than once as a bill was being tucked into that strip of leather by one hand, the other would slide along the boy’s flank. Nothing too blatant, and no line was crossed – the bouncers were watching, carefully, of course – and Peter would dance away with a playful look before someone could do more than he was going to allow.

Tony didn’t like it, though.

Peter worked his way to Tony’s table, and the billionaire smiled as the boy sidled up to him, hip first, presenting his deliciously muscled rear. Tony flashed a bill, and Peter’s smile was indulgent, as if he really never intended for the older man to actually give him a tip. He stopped his gyrations just long enough for Tony to expertly tuck a bill into the strap – although he didn’t so much as run a single finger along the boy’s skin. Peter smiled at him, flipped his chin and then danced away to finish the performance back up on the stage and vanish behind the curtain to thunderous approval for such a small crowd.

Tony applauded as well, and smiled, shaking his head. True, Peter wasn't a professional dancer, but as he watched the stagehand pick up the bills from the floor – as well as Peter’s discarded clothing – he had to admit that it had been a captivating show. He decided to hang around and watch one more – just to see if it was the same, or different – and then he’d go. The younger man had been right; Tony didn’t want to sit in the strip club the entire evening. Not when Peter’s performance was the only one that interested him.

He had plenty of things that he could do to while his time away at home, or the tower – or really, even on his phone in the parking lot, if he wanted to – but he was definitely glad he’d gone that evening.

Peter was just fucking delicious.


	8. 8

Tony was waiting for him when he emerged from the front door at 1:15, and Peter turned toward the car before the billionaire could flash his headlights to get his attention. He gave a tired sigh as he settled in the seat, and Tony thought that he _looked_ as tired as he sounded.

“You okay?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes. Thanks. Dancing is harder than serving, is all.”

“You were really _good_.”

“Thank you.” He gave the older man a look. “When I was counting out my tips, I noticed two hundred-dollar bills…”

“Wow. Someone is _ridiculously_ generous.” Tony started the car, not looking at the boy. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Same thing I do with the rest of my money,” Peter told him. “Put it in the bank and use it toward paying back May and Ben.”

“And living expenses?”

“And whatever tuition that my scholarships don’t cover.” He smiled at the concern in Tony’s tone, and once more put his hand on the billionaire’s thigh. “Don’t worry, Tony. I’m making it work.”

“But you look so tired.”

“Because I _am_ ,” Peter admitted. “Take me home and pamper me a little. I’ll be fine.”

“Is that what your harem does?”

“My harem?”

“Your gaggle of female roommates.”

The boy chuckled.

“Sometimes. If they’re home and they’re not busy – _and_ I look especially worn out.”

Tony shook his head, torn between amused and worried, and did as he’d been told. He drove Peter back to his place and pushed him down onto the sofa when they arrived, leaning down to take the boy’s shoes off for him.

“What can I make you?”

“Toast,” Peter requested, closing his eyes with a contented sigh and leaning back into the leather. And why not be content? _Tony Stark_ was hovering over him, willing to bring him what he wanted, he had had a good night – with great tips, even beyond the two hundred extra – and he knew exactly where they’d come from, didn’t he? He was warm, and safe and already relaxing. “ _With_ peanut butter, please.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“That’s it?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

He was back only a few minutes later, carrying toast and a glass of milk to wash it down – as well as a cup of coffee for himself.

“You’re not eating anything?” Peter asked, accepting the plate with a smile of thanks.

“I had dinner while I was waiting for you.” And he’d jerked off, not one – but _twice_ – thinking about Peter’s dancing and just how fucking delicious the boy was. “There are a few slices of pizza if you’re still hungry, though. Or I could make you something.”

“Toast is fine. Thanks.”

He started eating, and Tony watched.

“How many different performances do you have?” he asked. “I stayed for two, and they were different.”

The costumes were different, anyway. The dance was pretty similar, but stripping didn’t leave all that much room for creativity – even for an expert.

“I have five. One of the women has asked if I’d be interested in doing some kind of combo with her.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. She’s pretty clever at coming up with new material and she was a seamstress, so she makes her own costumes a lot of the times.”

“Huh.” He watched as Peter polished off his toast quickly, and downed the glass of milk. “More?”

“No. Thanks. That was perfect.”

“You should eat more than that.”

“I had a sandwich at work.”

“But you use a lot of energy, dancing like that,” Tony protested.

Luckily, Peter didn’t tell him to mind his own business.

“I’ll have something else, later,” the boy assured him. “For now, though, I’m good. _Really_.”

Tony took the plate and the glass and set them on the coffee table, then stood by the sofa.

“Need anything else?”

“Just company.” He smiled and patted the spot beside him, in invitation. “I’m glad I finished my schoolwork, though.”

Nothing to worry about, just then. It was a great feeling.

“So am I.” Tony sat down beside him, taking off his shoes, as well, ready to relax. “They’re pretty touchy-feely with you when you’re dancing, aren’t they?”

“It’s not as bad as it might have looked to you,” Peter told him. “The ones that actually try anything too pushy get slapped down hard by security and they _know_ it.”

Tony huffed, feeling a surge of something that he hadn’t felt in a long time. _Jealousy_. Can’t be jealous of someone else touching someone unless you cared – at least a little – for that person. Surprising himself, _and_ Peter, he stretched out on the sofa and put his head on Peter’s knees, rolling onto his side but looking up at him.

“I didn’t like the way they were touching you.”

Peter’s smile was soft, and understanding. He reached down and slid his fingers through Tony’s dark hair.

“That’s part of the job.”

“I didn’t like it,” he repeated, closing his eyes and savoring the way Peter was caressing his hair. Like being petted, only a little more intimate because it was his hair and not his side, or something. “Someone might hurt you.”

“That’s what the bouncers are for.”

Tony huffed, again, but he didn’t say anything. He put his hand on Peter’s thigh and relaxed, further, enjoying the fact _he_ was the one who had been allowed to take Peter home. Not any of the others. Just _him_. His hand slid, idly, along the boy’s thigh.

“I think they need bigger bouncers…”

Peter chuckled at that, and then gasped, softly, when Tony’s hand moved from his thigh to brush against his groin.

“Tony…”

“It’s alright,” the older man whispered, not even lifting his head from Peter’s leg, just looking up at him. “I’m not going to _do_ anything. I just want to touch you. _They_ got to. Now it’s my turn. Please?”

There was a moment’s hesitation and then Peter nodded.

“Okay.”

Tony continued to brush his hand against the denim of Peter’s jeans, his palm a perfect fit for the soft swelling that was under his hand. His thumb traced the contours of Peter’s penis through his pants, caressing it lightly, and he could feel it begin to swell under his ministrations.

“Feels good?”

“Yes.”

Peter was frozen in place, but there was no doubt that he meant what he was saying, and Tony crooned, gently, as he kept doing what he was doing, his cheek still resting on Peter’s knee but the swelling in Peter’s jeans much more noticeable, now.

“Has anyone ever done this to you?” Tony asked, softly.

“No.”

“We’ll go slow.”

“Tony…”

“I’m not going to make love to you, Peter,” the billionaire said, lightly. “ _Stop_ asking. I’m just going to make you feel good. Get to know you a little better. Yes?”

His hand paused, waiting, again, and the older man had to admit that he was impressed by just how much thought Peter was putting into his reply. He was fairly certain that most young men would have simply nodded, eagerly, and opened their jeans to give him better access.

Another reason to want him so badly, Tony decided.

“Yes.”

Without lifting his head, deciding that it would keep the boy more relaxed if he was still, Tony simply ran his fingers along the length of Peter, measuring his size through the jeans as the boy continued to swell under his touch. He stroked him, lightly, several long minutes, until it was _Peter_ who showed impatience, his hips shifting just a little under him.

“A little more, now,” Tony cooed. His fingers left Peter’s erection and found the button to his jeans, while Tony looked up and into Peter’s brown eyes. The boy was watching his actions, intently, and his pupils were a little wider than they normally were. “We’ll go slow,” Tony repeated.

The button opened, and the zipper was next. All still done without Tony lifting his head, or using the other hand, which was pinned underneath his body. Skillful fingers reached into Peter’s jeans and boxers, carefully freeing the boy’s cock from the cloth that had been protecting it. Peter moaned and closed his eyes, his face and neck flushed.

“Shhh… it’s good, honey. You’re fine…”

He was beautiful. Even there. Tony knew he shouldn’t have been surprised, but Peter had the prettiest cock that the older man had ever seen. It wasn't especially large – not as long as Tony’s – although it wasn't small, and it wasn't so thick that it could be called a monster, but as far as Tony was concerned, it was the perfect size and width ratio, and it stood straight up, eagerly waiting for more attention. He slid a fingertip along the shaft, admiring it, and tracing a vein along the surface.

“Oh…”

“You’re okay,” Tony crooned, keeping him calm. “You’re doing great.”

“Yeah.”

Peter shuddered, though, when Tony’s hand came around his shaft and he stroked him, gently.

The older man finally lifted his head from Peter’s knees and braced himself with the other hand, now.

“I’m going to taste you…” Tony whispered. “Don’t panic.”

He leaned over and slid his tongue along the head of Peter’s cock, lightly, and the boy moaned at the sensation, his hand coming to rest on the back of Tony’s head. The billionaire wasn't in any hurry. Especially since he knew it was Peter’s first time. He wanted it to be special. Wanted to be invited back.

He pulled his head away from the boy’s lap, his lips tightening, just for a moment, around the head of Peter’s cock before he used his free hand and pushed the front of Peter’s shirt up, exposing that perfect chest and those amazing abs. Tony peppered Peter’s soft skin with butterfly kisses from the base of his stomach to his chest, and then caught a nipple in his mouth, still holding the shirt up and out of the way.

“You’re so pretty, Peter,” he murmured, finally allowing the shirt to fall as he moved his attention back to Peter’s still achingly hard cock.

This time, he licked it for a moment, but then lowered his head further, opening his mouth to take Peter into it. He chuckled at the strangled noise the boy made at the motion and felt that stiff rod of flesh twitch and then tighten, noticeably. Peter’s hand returned to Tony’s hair and the boy pushed him just enough that Tony shifted to allow him to watch what he was doing. That was exciting for both of them, after all, and Tony went down on Peter’s cock with an expertise that left the younger man breathless, and panting with need as his hips began moving in time with the actions of Tony’s mouth.

“Yes. Jesus… oh…”

The noises and the obvious enjoyment only served to spur Tony to further actions, and Peter was soon moaning, his fingers tightening in Tony’s hair almost painfully for a moment before he let go, completely, to avoid hurting him. Tony buried Peter’s cock deep in his mouth, and his throat, and the boy’s almost agonized cry of pleasure and the sudden tension in his cock were the only warnings that he had before Peter climaxed.

Hard.

Tony clamped down, making sure to catch every drop of Peter’s cum, making noises of approval as the boy’s hips jerked and his cock spasmed for a long minute before Peter finally relaxed once more, spent.

“Wow.”

Tony smiled, cleaning him, carefully, before puling back and once more resting his head on the boy’s knees.

“Liked it?”

“It was…” Peter shrugged, his eyes closing. “I don’t even have the _words_ …”

“Then it was a success,” Tony told him, pleased. “Thank you.”

Peter smiled, and shivered.

“Thank _you_.”

“How is that your first blowjob?” Tony asked. “It _was_ , right?”

“I’m from rural Iowa,” Peter reminded him. “You don’t really put a sign out on your door asking if the other guys who liked guys wanted to come over…”

“It was bad?”

“No. Not at all. I just didn’t have a boyfriend, is all.”

Peter reached for his still somewhat aroused cock, to put it back into his pants, but Tony stopped his hand with his own.

“No. Leave it.”

“What? Why?”

Tony smiled, moving Peter’s hand out of the way.

“I want to watch you get soft, again. Then I’ll put you to bed. You look pleasantly satiated, right now. You’ll probably go right to sleep.”

“I _am_.” Peter blushed, slightly, looking down at himself. He wasn't going to soften anytime soon, at this rate – even though Tony wasn't touching him, at all. Like he’d said, he was just laying with his head on Peter’s knee, eyes on Peter’s groin. “You’re a _voyeur_ …”

“Duh. I was at a strip club, right?”

“True.”


	9. 9

They were on the sofa for almost half an hour, speaking softly to each other about how Peter’s night had gone and what Tony had done while Peter had been working. Neither commented on the fact that the boy’s pants were wide open and while Tony _did_ brush his hand along Peter’s leg a few times during their quiet discussion, he never once reached out and touched the now softening flesh that was nestled against the silk of Peter’s boxers.

“Bedtime, I think,” Tony murmured, watching Peter’s eyes close, again.

The young man was truly relaxed and was falling asleep, now – which had been the whole idea.

“Yeah.” Peter stifled a yawn, and hesitated, looking at Tony as he reached for his pants.

“Let me,” the older man told him, sitting up, now, and easing Peter’s penis back into his underwear and then buttoning them – although he didn’t bother with the zipper. “You brought sweats, or pajamas?”

“Yes.”

Peter found himself being hauled to his feet as Tony stood up, and the billionaire didn’t release his hand, walking with him to the guestroom.

“Get ready for bed,” Tony told him. “I’ll come tuck you in.”

“Really?”

“You don’t want me to?”

“Do you _want_ to?”

Tony smiled.

“I definitely do.”

The boy looked more bemused than baffled at that, but he nodded.

“Alright.”

When Tony returned a few minutes later, Peter had been to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and changed into sweats and nothing else. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, and he looked up when the billionaire tapped, lightly, on the door and walked in.

“How do you feel?”

“I’m good.”

“Freaked out?”

Peter smiled.

“A _little_ ,” he admitted.

“But you _liked_ it?”

“Yes.” The boy hesitated. “Should I be returning the favor?”

Tony felt his cock twitch inside his own sweats.

“Do you _want_ to?”

“I don’t know…”

“Then you _shouldn’t_ ,” Stark told him, leaning over to run his fingers through Peter’s soft hair. “When you do know, _then_ I’ll let you have your way with me. Not until then.”

“You’ll _let_ me, huh?” Peter echoed, smiling at that – and feeling just a little relief that Tony wasn't pressuring him into anything that he might not be ready for.

“Maybe. We’ll see.” Tony smiled, pulling the blankets and sheet back, and pointedly looking at his houseguest. “Into bed with you. What time do we need to leave to get you to class on time?”

“Nine. Ish,” Peter told him, sliding under the covers and stretching. “I could just take a bus, though. You don’t have to get up with me.”

“If I drop you off, though, I get to kiss you goodbye, right?”

The boy smiled up at him.

“I suppose that’s only fair.”

“Good.” Tony pulled the blankets up over him, regretfully covering Peter’s chest and belly, rather than tasting that skin, again. “ _And_ I get to kiss you goodnight.”

Peter reddened, slightly, his eyes dark with want.

“I can live with that.”

With the utmost care, Tony leaned over, feeling Peter’s hand come press against his chest as he met the boy's lips with his own. It wasn't a deep kiss, but it soft, and gentle, and filled with the promise of what there was to come.

A perfect first kiss, really.

Peter’s hand slid along Tony’s belly, stopping only when it reached the older man’s sweats. Tony allowed the kiss to linger just a moment, longer, and the broke off.

“Goodnight, Peter Parker,” he whispered, feeling himself getting hard. “I’ll make breakfast in the morning.”

“Alright.” The boy closed his eyes, ready to sleep, despite the new swelling that was beginning to demand attention, once more. “Goodnight, Tony.”

Another smile and Tony was turning off the light as he walked out of the room, his hand already sliding under the waistband of his sweats. Third time’s the charm, right? And he was definitely in the mood to get off.

“Keep an eye on him, FRIDAY. Let me know if he needs anything.”

_“Gotcha.”_

Peter was asleep fairly soon. Tony took a little longer, but when he slept, it was deep and filled with only good dreams.

><><><><><

It was a soft, amused, voice in his ear that woke Peter the next morning.

“Hey, honey… it’s time to wake up…”

“Hmmm…?” He rolled over, away from the voice, and the warmth of the person who was speaking to him. “Five more minutes…”

He was so comfortable.

“Peter…” Now the person – and he was awake enough, now, to recognize that it was _Tony_ – was on the bed behind him, leaning over him and breathing in his ear with every word whispered. “Wake up. We need to get some breakfast in you before I take you to class.”

Peter mumbled and rolled back, opening his eyes and finding himself looking right into Tony Stark’s amused and warm brown ones.

“Hey, Tony,” he said, sleepily, reaching a hand up to brush his fingertips against the man’s upper arm. “I was having the best dream.”

“Was it about _me_?” Tony asked, smiling.

“How did you know?”

“Because you’re wonderfully aroused.”

Peter frowned, but followed Tony’s gaze down the length of his blankets and found that he was definitely making a tent of his blankets. He blushed, but smiled, nonetheless.

“It was a _really_ good dream…”

“Looks like it.” Tony’s eyes were cheerful; he was clearly enjoying the moment. Peter stretched and sat up, letting the blankets fall to his lap as he did, and Tony’s hand cupped his cheek for just a moment. “Good morning. How did you sleep?”

“Like a log.”

“Good.” He ignored Peter’s erection, although he really didn’t _want_ to. “Are you hungry?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes. Please.”

“Pancakes?”

“Yeah. Sounds great.”

“Want me to take care of your problem, there, first?”

The boy’s cheeks reddened even further with his blush and his eyes met Tony’s uncertainly.

“Are you teasing me?”

“A little,” the older man admitted. “It’s adorable to see you like that, and I’m trying very hard to keep my promise to not do anything you wouldn’t appreciate.”

“I don’t remember you promising that.”

“I didn’t make the promise to _you_ ,” he said, smiling. He leaned forward, closing the gap between them to press his lips lightly against Peter’s for a moment, giving the boy a chance to respond by either deepening the kiss or pulling away. Peter held the kiss for a moment, and then he did pull away, and Tony touched his cheek again. “Get ready. I’ll have breakfast on the table in ten minutes.”

“Thank you.”

Peter watched Tony leave and then sprawled on the bed, once more, for just a moment, refreshed and ready to start another day – and another week. And thinking that it would have been extremely hot to have begun his day with a repeat of the blowjob Tony had given him the evening before. He just hadn’t quite been sure if the older man was serious about the offer, or not – and hadn’t wanted to look desperate.

Although he really kind of _was_.

He groaned at the memory of how it felt to have his cock in someone’s mouth and tossed back the blankets. A shower was just what he needed – and a chance to take care of his morning wood, of course.

><><><

Breakfast was on the table when Peter emerged from the guestroom a short time later. Tony was just adding a platter of sausages to the middle of the table, and he looked up when Peter walked in.

“There you are. I was wondering if I was going to have to come drag you out of bed.”

“No. It takes me a bit to get going, some days.” Peter told him. “Sorry about that.”

“I thought farm kids get up with the sun and go to sleep with the cows?”

The boy smiled.

“I’ve never slept with a cow.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I didn’t work another job when I was growing up,” Peter told him. “And May would have killed me if I’d ever stayed up as late as I do, now.”

“Makes sense. Do _they_ know what you’re doing for a living?”

“Yes.”

“And they _approve_?”

“No. They worry about me. But I call them a couple of times a week and make sure they know that I’m safe and sound.”

“That’s so wholesome. Eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

“Thanks.”

Considering how little he’d eaten the night before, Tony wasn't surprised at the younger man’s appetite that morning, and Peter admitted that he tended to eat his biggest meal in the morning, since dancing on a full stomach was uncomfortable, at best.

“Do you work tonight?” the billionaire asked.

“Every night this week.” The boy hesitated. “I have a lot of things that I need to get done, too, so I can’t spend that much time with you this week.”

Tony frowned, feeling a little pang of regret.

“Like what?”

“Laundry. Housework. It’s my night to do dishes, tonight, so I’ll have to do them when I get off work. I need to clean the living room and the bathroom, and-“

“Wait. You’re going to blow me off to do _chores_?”

“I’m not blowing you off,” Peter told him. “But, yeah. I have to do those things.”

“Why?”

“Because they need done, Tony. It’s my responsibility – and the commitment I made when I moved in with the others. That I’d help with the housework.”

“But I want to spend time with you.”

“I’m off _Friday_ ,” Peter replied, looking hopeful. “And I don’t have a morning class that day, either.”

“So I can have you the whole day?”

“If you want me that long,” Peter agreed.

“And you’ll spend the night Friday?” When Peter hesitated, Tony rolled his eyes. “I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he promised.

“We could play,” the boy said. “A _little_ , I mean.”

“Yeah?”

He shrugged, smiling at the suddenly hopeful look in the older man’s eyes. Tony Stark was charming, and sexy, and Peter liked the idea of playing. If the evening before had been any indication of what might be coming, he was all for it – as long as Tony didn’t ask him for more than he was ready for.

“I think so. We can see how things are going and go from there. Sound good?”

Tony nodded.

“Sounds great.” He didn’t know if he had anything on his calendar for Friday, but whatever it wasn't going to happen. “I can call you, though? Check on you? Make sure you’re eating? Getting enough sleep?”

“I was doing all of that before you met me,” Peter reminded him, smiling, though, because it was good to be cared about. “You know that, right?”

“I know. But I can call you, right?”

“Of course you can.”

Tony beamed.


	10. 10

“What? _No_.”

_“It’ll only be a few days.”_

“I have _plans_ , Steve.”

_“It’s important. You know I wouldn’t ask you to come with us if it wasn't. We need the firepower.”_

“Rhodey could go.”

_“He’s going to be in the hospital another two days, and you know it.”_

He _did_ know. He’d gone by and checked on him, just to make sure. A training accident with some new technology and the new guys had almost taken his friend’s hand off. If not for some quick reflexes and a lot of luck, it could have been much worse.

“When do you need me?”

_“Friday, Saturday and back Sunday.”_

Ugh.

“Fine. But there and back. I’m not going to dick around and pick up souvenirs.”

_“Thanks. We’ll see you at the compound Friday morning.”_

“Yes.”

Tony ended the call, and scowled. He’d spent the last three days distracted from everything else, willing the time to go faster until he could see Peter, again. Yes, he could have gone and watched him dance, but he didn’t like watching the other dancers, and he hated watching other people touching the boy while he danced. Yes, they were giving him the tips that he needed, Tony knew that, but it was Peter.

_His_ Peter.

And now it was Wednesday, and Steve Rogers had called, telling him that they were needed on the other side of the globe, and now Tony was going to have to cancel on Peter. He sighed, and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and trying to think of a way to get out of something that he absolutely knew he needed to go do.

“FRIDAY? Call Peter.”

_“He’s in class.”_

Ugh.

“Fine.”

Tony knew Peter’s class schedule, and his work schedule – and so did his AI.

_“You have a meeting.”_

“I know.” He’d finish his meeting and run by Peter’s place when it was through. By then the boy should be home getting ready for work. Tony didn’t want to break their date over the phone, anyway. “I wish he’d come to the apartment, anyway. At least then I’d know he was eating enough and getting enough rest – even if I can’t be there to watch him.”

FRIDAY could watch him, though, in Tony’s stead.

_“You could have him house sit while you’re gone,”_ FRIDAY suggested. “ _Have him feed the fish and water the plants.”_

“We don’t _have_ a fish,” Tony reminded her. “Or any _plants_ , for that matter.”

_“You have a couple of days to get some.”_

He scratched his chin and got out of his chair to go to the meeting before Pepper had to call him and remind him.

“Find a pet store and order me a goldfish or something,” he ordered his AI as he headed to the door. “Nothing too fancy, but something that needs to eat every day. And get a couple of plants from some nursery somewhere. Something _bright_.”

><><><><><

The little house that Peter lived in had a driveway, but there weren’t any cars parked in it when Tony pulled up in his sportscar. He parked there and got out, looking around, automatically, but not seeing anyone else – including Peter. It was just after four, though, and according to the schedule, Peter would probably be home. He had to work at seven, and if he stayed with the same things that he’d been doing the last couple of days, then he’d have finished his last class and would be doing any classwork that he had due, or relaxing before work.

Either way, Tony was hoping to catch him.

He knocked on the door, but it wasn't Peter who answered. The young woman was blonde, cute, and obviously recognized him the minute she opened the door.

_“Holy Christ!”_

The door slammed shut in his face, much to Tony’s surprise.

He stared at it for a moment, and then raised his hand and knocked, again.

An instant later, the same girl opened it, looking sheepish – and still shocked.

“Sorry.”

Tony smiled, politely – and somewhat amused, to boot.

“It’s alright. I’m looking for Peter.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes – which were green, he saw, now – narrowed slightly.

“You’re _Tony Stark_.”

“I am.”

“What do you want Peter for?”

“He won a contest.”

“Really?”

Tony gave her his most charming smile – one he practiced in the mirror.

“Would I lie?”

“I suppose not.”

“May I come in?”

“Oh. Sorry. Yes. Yeah. Of course.” She moved aside to allow him to enter, and looked over her shoulder. “Peter? You have company – and put on some _pants_ for God’s sake.”

The living room was small – not surprising considering the size of the house from the outside – but it was tidy and neat. There was a sofa and a recliner and an ancient TV on a stand against the wall that had a video game system attached to it, with the controllers sitting on top of the TV. Off to one side was a small dining room, with a table with four chairs around it and beyond that there was a kitchen – and something smelled amazing, so it was obvious that dinner was being prepared.

The blonde gestured for Tony to sit down.

“He should be just a minute. Can I get you something to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks.” Tony looked around. “Nice place.”

“Yeah. It’s a shit heap, but it’s warm in the winter and gives us a place to sleep at night. I’m Molly.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“ _Peter_! Hurry up.”

“I’m coming…”

The voice was coming from behind one of the doors that led off the living room, but before he could arrive, a different door opened, and another blonde walked into the room. This one had short hair compared to the other’s much longer, but she was cute, too; tall and lean with legs that went on forever and a nice smile.

“What the…?”

“It’s _Tony Stark_ ,” Molly told the newcomer, looking excited, now that she was over her shock. “He’s here to see Peter.”

“Why?”

“He says Peter won a contest.” Molly smiled. “This is Jana. She lives here, too.”

Tony nodded a greeting.

“Peter told me he has three roommates.”

“You’ve spoken to him?” Molly asked. “That _jerk_. He didn’t mention it.”

He smiled, now, because it was obvious she wasn't actually annoyed with him, and he was definitely getting a sisterly vibe from the woman toward the boy that he was so very fond of.

“I asked him not to,” Tony admitted.

“Why?” Jana asked. “Oh, wait… Because Molly here is your biggest fan and she’s going to be stalking you, now…?”

That made Stark chuckle, even as Molly blushed, prettily.

“Something like that.”

Before he could say anything else – or Molly could defend herself – the other door opened and Peter walked out, wearing only a pair of sweats. He looked surprised to see the older man, but he smiled – which made Tony’s heart flip-flop in his chest.

“Tony…”

“You know Tony Stark?” Molly said, speaking up, now, and slapping Peter’s bare shoulder. “When were you going to _tell_ us?”

“Oh.” Peter shrugged. “I… I mean… he’s _shy_ ,” he replied. “I didn’t know if he’d want to come over, or not. What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything is fine,” Tony answered, smiling to prove it. “But I needed to talk to you – and I wanted to do it in person. I hope you don’t mind me showing up on your doorstep?”

“We’re about to have dinner,” Jana said. “Are you hungry?”

“Let me talk to Peter, first,” Tony replied, still oozing charm. “But then, if there’s extra, I’d be delighted.”

Why wouldn’t he? It smelled amazing. He hadn’t had home-cooked (aside from his own cooking) for a long time.

“We can go to my room,” Peter said, gesturing toward the door that he’d just emerged from. “Come on.”

The two women watched as Tony crossed the room and followed Peter into the bedroom, and the younger man closed the door behind them. This room was small, too, Tony saw. Two twin beds on either side of the room. Two dressers, and one desk with a lamp and a chair. The walls were plastered on one side of the room with posters; Tony Stark, Ironman and a blonde singer dominated the themes. The bed on that side had a pink comforter, and was unmade, with a stack of clothes strewn over every surface, while the other bed was neatly made, and had Peter’s laptop and a small stack of books on it.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, looking slightly worried.

“Yeah, honey, I’m fine. But I need to go out of town this weekend, so I’m going to have to cancel our date.”

“Oh.”

The boy looked disappointed, which made Tony feel a surge of happiness that he forced himself to hide. If he was disappointed, then that meant that he’d been looking forward to seeing him, right?

“It’s an _Avenger_ thing,” Stark said. “And I can’t get out of it – or I would.”

“No. I understand,” Peter assured him. “That definitely takes precedence. We can hang out next weekend.”

“I’m sorry.”

Peter smiled.

“It’s okay, Tony. Really.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course.”

“I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you, though…”

“Sure. What do you need?”

“The apartment’s going to be standing empty while I’m gone. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind staying there? House-sitting. You don’t need to do anything more than feed the fish and water the plants, but there’s no sense in you going out of your way just to do it when you could stay there, instead.”

“You have a _fish_?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t see it when I was there.”

Yeah. And he was pretty observant, too, Tony knew.

“It was… at fish camp.”

Peter rolled his eyes.

“Fish camp isn’t a thing.”

“Are you an ichthyologist?”

“No. But I had a fish when I was little. I won it at the fair.” The boy smirked. “And never sent it to fish camp.”

“Because people in _Iowa_ don’t believe in spoiling their fish, Peter. We do things differently here on the east coast. But the fish is home, now, and he’s going to need someone to watch him while I’m gone. Someone responsible enough to feed him every day. He can’t come with me.”

“So why do you really want me to stay at your place?” Peter asked, still amused, but curious.

“Because I promised that we’d spend time together there, and if you’re there, at least I can keep in touch with you, better, through FRIDAY.”

That was touching. And, even better, he could tell it was the truth.

“Aren't you worried that I’ll steal the fine china while you’re gone? Or worse, steal _FRIDAY_?”

Tony chuckled.

“You can’t steal FRIDAY. And if you wanted the fine china I’d give it to you, you know that.”

“Yeah.”

“So you’ll house sit for me?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes. Thank you for thinking of me.”

“It doesn’t come naturally for me, sometimes,” Tony admitted, smiling and feeling a cheerfulness course through him. “I’ll pick you up from work on Thursday and take you home with me and get you settled before I have to leave Friday morning.”

“Sounds good.”

It sounded really good, really, Peter had to admit. His roommates were nice people, for the most part, but a weekend away from three college-aged women? And the drama they always seemed to have trailing after them? Tony’s place was roomy, and would be quiet. He’d probably get a lot of schoolwork done, too.

“So… what’s for dinner?”

Peter smiled.

“I’m not sure. It’s Jana’s night to cook, and she’s a nutrition minor, so it could be anything – but chances are it’s going to be _healthy_.”

“Ugh,” Tony teased, rolling his eyes, good naturedly. “It’s not too late to sneak out the window and go get a burger.”

“She’d kill us both,” Peter assured him. He looked down at himself. “Let me get dressed and I’ll formally introduce you to them.”


	11. 11

Peter was relieved when Tony picked him up at work that night. He was tired, and if Tony wasn't there, he’d have had to take the bus. Which meant waiting at the stop for at least fifteen minutes, and then catching the transfer. All in all, to get to his home it would have been almost half an hour. To get to Tony’s apartment, it would have been more than an hour.

He sighed when he got into the car, giving the older man a tired smile and patting his leg.

“Thank you for coming to get me.”

Tony smiled, reaching for Peter’s hand and squeezing it, lightly.

“You’re _welcome_.” He was glad that he’d insisted on it, reminding Peter that he wasn't staying up any later to get him, since he normally would have been working on something techy anyway. It was just a good way to make sure he didn’t stay up all night. “You look exhausted. _Again_.”

“I know.” He let Tony put his hand back on the older man’s leg, and closed his eyes, settling in. “I _feel_ exhausted.”

“Let’s get you home, then, and put you to bed.”

“Yeah.”

They were silent on the drive. Tony was concentrating on traffic enough to make sure they didn’t wreck, and on the boy that was dozing in the passenger seat next to him. He felt the weight of Peter’s hand on his leg the entire way to his apartment, and smiled when he leaned over the center console to brush his fingers against Peter’s cheek.

“Can you wake up?” he whispered. “Or do I carry you?”

Peter’s brown eyes were tired when he opened them, but they were definitely amused.

“I’m awake.”

He got out of the car, stopping long enough to grab the bag that he’d packed before going to work that afternoon, and then followed Tony to the elevator and up to the penthouse, walking off the elevator.

“Can I feed you something?” Tony asked as they headed, automatically, for the island. “Toast?”

“Please.”

He wasn't hungry, really, but he knew if he didn’t eat that he’d be too hungry to sleep for long.

“Peanut butter?”

“Please.” Peter smiled at the small glass bowl on the island that held a single brightly colored goldfish, who was lazily swimming, watching them. “Your fish, huh?”

“Looks happy, doesn’t he?” Tony asked with a slight smirk. “The benefits of _fish camp_.”

“And the sticker on the bowl?” Peter asked, pointing at the price tag that hadn’t been removed. “Let me guess? New digs to celebrate coming home?”

“It keeps him humble.”

The boy laughed, outright, at that, and took his toast from Tony with a nod of thanks.

“I was _really_ looking forward to this weekend, you know…”

The billionaire’s gaze softened at the admission.

“So was I, honey. I’ll make it up to you.”

“It’s an Avenger thing, Tony. I understand that they’re going to be a priority. You don’t have to make it up to me.”

“Take a couple of days off when I get back and I’ll spoil the hell out of you, anyway.”

“I’d still have class.” He shrugged, smiling and clearly not too concerned. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Yes.” Tony put the peanut butter back and watched as Peter ate his toast in a few neat bites. “Do you want more?”

“No. Thank you.” The boy hesitated, looking almost shy. “I thought about you a lot this week…”

“Oh?” He felt a thrill go through him. “What about me?”

“Just about you.”

The reddening in his cheeks gave him away, though, and Tony smiled, leaning closer, but careful not to hover.

“About what I did to you?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes.”

“You _liked_ it, though, right? You weren’t thinking about how terrible it had been?”

“Oh, no. I _liked_ it. One of the reasons I was looking forward to this weekend, to be honest.”

“So I can do it, again?”

“Do you want to?” Peter asked, uncertainly. “I mean… what if I don’t reciprocate? It doesn’t seem fair that-“

“Peter…” Tony gently interrupted him, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet to bring his arms around the boy’s slight frame and hold him. “I _like_ being with you. I like spending time with you, and talking to you, and hearing about your day – and even meeting your crazy harem. I also liked what I did to you, and maybe some time you’ll be comfortable enough to want to try it, too. Until then… I’m fine with doing anything you’re comfortable with.”

Peter let his cheek rest against Tony’s chest, listening to his heartbeat and the vibrations that went through his chest as he spoke.

“I thought I’d like to try it…” he murmured into the man’s shirt. “But what if I’m bad at it?”

He wasn't used to failing at anything that he tried, after all – and maybe he was a _bit_ of a perfectionist.

Tony’s chuckle reverberated through his chest, and he kissed the top of Peter’s head, enjoying the way the boy’s height put him at just the right level to do that.

“Practice makes perfect, right?”

That made Peter smile, too, and he pulled away to look up at him, Tony’s handsome face amused and his eyes hungry.

“Yeah.”

Tony could see that he looked a little nervous, though, and that was the last thing that he wanted. He leaned forward to steal a brief kiss before moving back, and taking Peter’s hand.

“You’re thinking too much, honey,” he admonished, lightly. “Sex – and _loving_ – isn’t supposed to be thought out like that. Unless you need to worry about birth control, of course. Then think it out, by all means.”

Peter smiled.

“So, you’re okay with just fooling around a little with me?”

“I’m okay with simply sitting on the sofa and seeing what – if anything – happens,” Tony assured him as they walked back into the living room. “Even if it’s nothing more than you letting me cuddle with you for a while.”

“I’ve never cuddled, before…” Peter told him, allowing Tony to pull him down beside him. “I mean, with May and Ben, yeah, but not with someone who isn’t related…”

Tony smiled.

“No wonder you graduated so young,” he teased. “Nothing but studying and homework.”

Peter blushed, but there was definitely some truth in the statement.

“What do I do?”

“You take off your shoes and relax,” the older man told him, doing exactly that and taking his own shoes off. “FRIDAY? Turn on the fireplace, will you?”

The flames were the only response, and Peter was impressed.

“That’s convenient,” he said.

“Yes. Make sure you take advantage of it while you’re here this weekend. She can do everything, really…”

“Wow.”

“She can’t do _this_ , though,” Tony said, sliding his hand under Peter’s shirt and running his fingertips along the boy’s abs. “This is just for me to do… right?”

Peter nodded, suddenly feeling breathless.

“Yes.”

“Can we take your shirt off?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t move, but Tony didn’t need him to. The older man pulled Peter’s shirt up and off, and then smiled at him.

“You’re so pretty.”

Peter smiled, looking up at him.

“Take yours off, too.”

“You realize how _flabby_ I’m going to look next to you, right?” he asked, pretending to be concerned, as he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it out of his pants to take it off. “Old and wrinkly.”

The boy smiled, relaxing, as Tony had hoped that he would. His eyes went to the center of Tony’s chest – not surprisingly.

“Is that there, permanently?”

“No.” He winced, though, when he took it off – because it was designed to stay where it was, and he was still working with the adhesive that kept it in place. Some day he’d figure out how to take the nano housing off with a thought. He placed it on the coffee table, rubbing the skin and mourning the loss of a couple of chest hairs as he looked at Peter. “Better?”

“You’re not flabby and wrinkly…”

Peter was excited, and trying hard not to look like some kid fresh off the farm. Especially in front of someone as sophisticated as Tony – although the man was being amazing with him, and he recognized that he was making an effort to keep him from being nervous. He appreciated it. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Tony that he’d been thinking about him all week; the man was definitely a distraction – even though he hadn’t even been around, and they’d only spoken on the phone twice.

He wanted to have Tony suck him, again, and he wanted to see what else they could do. Peter was a virgin, true, but he wasn't naïve. He’d watched porn – _some_ – and had read his share of dirty stories. But the reality had been so much more amazing when he’d finally gotten a blowjob, and he wanted more.

And he wanted to try _giving_ one, too, but felt awkward and foolish.

Here he was, though, with Tony sitting next to him. Both of them were bare-chested, now, and Tony was thick and solid. Muscular and bulkier than Peter would ever be, but not flabby, like he’d said. There was a dusting of dark hairs on the older man’s chest that Peter wanted to touch, and they trailed down in a thin line to Tony’s abdomen, which was flat, although he didn’t have the defined abs that Peter did.

And then those little hairs trailed even lower, to disappear under Tony’s pants.

Before he realized what he was doing, Peter’s hand was pressing against the older man’s stomach, his fingers following that enticing trail, and he heard the hitch in Tony’s breath at the action.

Peter flushed, and pulled his hand away.

“Sorry…”

“I like it.” Peter smiled, and Tony could see that he was still nervous. It was to be expected, of course, but the billionaire took his hand and brought it up to his mouth to kiss the palm, lightly. “Why don’t you let me play with _you_ , now?” he murmured, his eyes meeting Peter’s and allowing his hunger to show. “If you like it – and you want to try it – you can play with me later. Or when I get back.”

“What do you have in mind?” Peter asked.

“I want to suck you, again,” was the honest reply. “I want you in my mouth, and under me, writhing and bucking until you empty yourself down my throat.”

“Jesus, Tony…” Peter complained. “That’s _insane_.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

Stark’s guided Peter’s hand down to his lap, allowing the younger man to feel how aroused he was.

“I’ve been jerking off to the thought of having you naked in my bed all week, honey,” he told him. “Now that you’re here, I want to make sure you’re aware of my intentions.”

Peter’s tongue came out, wetting lips suddenly dry.

“In your bed?”

“We could play here,” Tony told him with a nonchalance that he didn’t really feel. “But there’s more room on my bed – and I want to fall asleep with you beside me. We could do that, right? I promise not to do anything without making sure it’s alright with you, first.”

“Can I try to suck you?”

The older man shivered at the thought.

“Fuck.”

Peter smiled at the reaction.

“Was that a yes?”


	12. 12

“We’ll see how it goes,” Tony answered, smiling as he moved to stand and pulled Peter up, as well. “It’s _my_ house, so I get to have you, first. If you still want to try it once I’m done draining you dry, then I’ll give you a chance to convince me. Fair?”

“I guess.”

He held Peter’s hand as they walked into the bedroom, and the boy looked around with interest. It was bigger than the guestroom and the bed was enormous. The room was dimly lit and the décor was black and polished metal, with a black comforter and a mountain of pillows. Tony stopped beside the bed, and turned Peter toward him.

“I’m going to kiss you and finish undressing you… all right?”

Peter nodded, wordlessly, and Tony bent his head while using his hand to tilt Peter’s chin up to meet his kiss. His lips brushed against Peter’s, first, and deepened almost immediately when the younger man put his hands on Tony’s hips. More for support since his knees were threatening to buckle, but the reason didn’t matter. It was the touch that Tony felt, just then.

He slid his tongue against Peter’s lips, demanding access to his mouth, and there was no hesitation when the boy’s lips parted, allowing it. As Tony’s tongue explored Peter’s mouth, his hands drifted lower, fingers working the button on his jeans and then the zipper, bringing it down. Then his hands slid inside the back of Peter’s jeans and boxers, cupping his ass momentarily, before using the motion to draw the fabric down, freeing his thighs, and then his knees and finally pooling at his ankles.

Peter pulled back from the kiss, looking down between them, his cock so hard, already, and brushing against Tony’s slacks, streaking them with thin rivulets of precum.

“Tony…”

Stark kissed his cheek, and his neck, his hands going back to Peter’s rear.

“You okay?”

“Yes.”

Another kiss, this one to his lips. Soft and gentle.

“Nervous?”

“No.”

Maybe a little. Mostly excited, though. He knew what to expect, and Tony was going slow enough to avoid startling him.

“Lay back for me, honey,” Tony ordered, pushing Peter gently backward, until his knees caught the edge of the bed and he sat down. The older man pulled Peter’s jeans from his feet, tossing them and Peter’s boxers to the floor and looking down at him. “Jesus you’re beautiful. I’ve told you that, right?”

“Yes.”

A hand flat against Peter’s chest forced him down, and Tony nudged his knees apart, making a space for him between Peter’s long legs. He smiled down at the boy, and Peter groaned when Tony’s hand was suddenly holding him, gentle fingers wrapped around the hard shaft of Peter’s cock.

“What is your record for masturbating back to back?” Tony asked him, stroking him, slowly, almost teasing.

“Three.”

“That’s _hot_ , honey. What were you fantasizing about?”

“You.”

“Oh, _perfect answer_.”

Peter smiled, trying to crane his neck to watch what Tony was doing.

“That feels so good.”

“It’s supposed to,” Tony told him. He leaned over and kissed him, lightly. “I want you to cum for me, Peter. Back to back, with your pretty cock deep in my mouth. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

As he was asking, he was lightly stroking, enjoying the feel of Peter’s cock in his hand, swelling further and filling him, perfectly.

“Should we be doing this?” Peter asked, thoroughly enjoying what was being done to him, but practical enough to hesitate. “You’re supposed to be leaving, tomorrow… you should probably get some sleep.”

“I’m not flying,” Tony assured him. “I’ll sleep on the plane – and probably dream of you the entire time.”

The boy smiled at that, and then gasped when Tony ran his thumb along the slit, smearing the head of Peter’s cock with precum.

“Shit…” he arched against the motion – unable to stop himself – and groaned. “Please, Tony.”

It was all Stark needed to hear, of course. He leaned over, kneeling between Peter’s legs and began working the boy’s cock, expertly, with mouth and tongue. Peter didn’t last long, and Tony hadn’t expected him to. Not as anxious as he’d been to have another blowjob, and as hard as he was. And certainly not with Tony Stark sucking on him, knowing exactly where to lap or lick or slurp to make it feel as amazing as possible.

With a soft cry of pleasure, Peter climaxed, arching into Tony’s mouth and emptying himself in a series of almost uncontrollable spasms. The older man made a pleased noise and clamped his lips down around the head of Peter’s cock, using his tongue to tease every last drop before he finally pulled away and looked down at the boy, smirking at the boy’s expression.

“You like that, huh?”

“I’ve read descriptions and I’ve watched videos,” he replied. “But nothing compares to the real thing.”

“Oh, plenty of things do,” Tony disagreed, moving up on him so he could brush a kiss against Peter’s soft lips. “You just haven’t tried a lot of them, yet. Ready for round two?” he asked, his hand once more finding Peter’s cock.

“No.” The boy sat up, forcing Tony to either move and allow it, or attempt to hold him down. Predictably, the older man moved aside, but still maintained his position between Peter’s legs. “I want to try it. On you. Now.” His eyes strayed to Tony’s groin for a moment before moving back to the older man’s face. “We _can_ , right?”

 _Jesus_.

Tony shuddered, and it had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

“We can do anything that we want,” Tony assured him. Neither of them missing that fact that with Peter sitting on the bed and Tony standing between the boy’s legs, the billionaire was right at the perfect level for him to pull his pants down and shove his cock down Peter’s throat. “All you have to do is give the word.”

Peter brought his hand up, and palmed the swelling in the front of Tony’s slacks. Tony sighed in pleasure and held still, allowing the boy as much time as he wanted to simply touch him. He was going to be as careful as he could to not frighten him – because he knew that he was going to want a repeat of everything that they did, and that meant making their first times addictive.

Obviously giving Peter a mind-blowing blowjob had been a great start.

“What do I do…?” Peter asked, looking up at him. “I mean, I know what to _do_ , but…”

He trailed off, looking at the bulge and Tony about came right then and there when Peter’s tongue wet his lips, idly.

“Play with it, honey,” he whispered. “Like I did with you. Touch it, and caress it, until you’re ready, and then taste it.”

Peter nodded and did as Tony said. Like the older man had the evening before, he spent several long minutes simply getting the feel of Tony’s arousal through the slacks that he had on, while Tony forced himself to stand perfectly still and watch. Which, of course, made him even harder. By the time Peter reached for the clasp, and then opened the zipper, Tony was as hard as he’d ever been and was leaking precum through his boxers.

The young man pulled Tony’s slacks down, first, and paused as he saw the size of the erection that was straining the silk of Tony’s boxers. He’d been thinking about Stark a lot, as he’d told him – especially when masturbating. It had been his intention to allow the older man to have sex with him that weekend. He was a little nervous at the thought – but also _really_ excited and aroused. He wanted to try it, and who better to show him how it was done than someone like Tony?

Handsome, exciting and clearly knowledgeable, he was the perfect choice, really – barring the off chance that Peter would find someone less sensational, but one who might want to actually settle into a real relationship with him. That would have been the best scenario; losing his virginity to someone he might end up settling down with – maybe even marrying, if things went well.

Peter had no such hopes for a lasting relationship with _Tony_ , but he wasn't above the idea of a fling.

Looking at the size of the man, though, it was a daunting thought at the moment. As he pulled Tony’s boxers down, freeing his cock, which bobbed in front of his face, Peter had trouble imagining that it would actually fit inside him without a lot of discomfort. He’d actually brought a toy with him – one that was much smaller – that he thought he’d maybe try out (away from the harem, as Tony called them) and away from Tony.

Just to see how it would feel without anyone around to tease him.

“You don’t _have_ to, honey…” Tony whispered, mistaking Peter’s expression for fear, and unaware of what the boy was thinking. “We can wait.”

It was sincere, Peter could tell. But it was also obvious that Tony was eager and willing.


	13. 13

Startled out of his reverie by the words – and the genuine patience in his tone – Peter shook his head.

“No. I’m okay.”

He pushed the boxers all the way down, and watched as Tony stepped out of them, standing naked in front of Peter, now. Tony’s hand automatically went to his cock, sliding his fingers around the shaft and stroking it. He wasn't that much longer than Peter’s own cock was, but he was a bit thicker. Especially just then, considering how aroused he was. Peter reached for him, too, and Tony let go as the boy scooted a little closer to the edge of the bed, and stroked Tony’s cock a few times before leaning forward and pressing his lips against the head.

Tony couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath, but he held it as Peter’s tongue snaked out and licked the tip, cautiously, taking his first taste.

“Just like that, Peter,” Tony murmured approval and encouragement. “That’s so _good_.”

Emboldened, the younger man took another taste, and then a longer one, until he was peppering the head of Tony’s cock with kisses and tentative licks and finally opened his lips and pulled the head into his mouth completely.

When Tony made approving noises (somewhat strangled because of what Peter was doing) Peter increased his efforts. He tried sucking more of Tony down, while at the same time stroking the shaft of his cock. He’d watched porn; he knew what it was supposed to look like, even though he hadn’t known what Tony would _taste_ like. It was exciting, and his mouth was watering around the head of Tony’s cock, allowing him to slide a little more in every time his head bobbed.

Even better, _Tony_ was clearly enjoying it, which meant that Peter was doing it right. He went at it even more enthusiastically, then, slurping and sucking and stroking Tony in time to the rhythm that his mouth was taking the older man in. Tony moaned, appreciatively, every time, and Peter felt his cock begin to tense just as the billionaire put his hand on the boy’s head.

“I’m going to climax, honey…” he cooed. Tony wasn't normally a fan of announcing his impending orgasm; it sounded ridiculous in the pornos that he’d watched, and his partners were usually experienced enough to catch the signals of the impending eruption. _Peter_ wasn't experienced, though, and Tony didn’t want to startle him – or frighten him. Besides, he wanted to make sure things were handled right. “When I do… _Jesus, that’s good_ … when I do, I want you to swallow it, alright? It’s better that way, and it won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Peter made a noise that might have been an agreement, and his hand sped up on Tony’s shaft, until the older man grunted and came, forcing himself to not thrust his cock deeper than Peter could handle, but threading his fingers into the boy’s hair to hold him still as he fed him his load of cum. He watched with hooded lids as Peter swallowed him, still stroking him, until it was Tony who had to pull himself carefully out of the boy’s grasp.

“Fuck…” he gasped, pulling Peter to his feet and kissing him, hard, tasting himself on the boy’s lips and tongue. “That was amazing, Peter. Just fucking _incredible_.”

Peter smiled, looking a little dazed; whether from what he’d done, or the praise that he was receiving for having done it right, Tony wasn't sure – and neither was Peter.

“It’s exciting, isn’t it?” he asked, putting his arms around Tony’s waist and pressing his cheek against the bigger man’s bare chest.

“Yes.” Tony pressed a kiss against the top of the boy’s head. “Come to bed with me, now… I want to watch you.”

“Get soft?”

“Yes. If you don’t mind…?”

Peter shrugged and allowed Tony to release him and the waited while the blankets were pulled back. Then he was guided back to the bed, only now he was laying flat, with his head on Tony’s leg, while the older man ran his hand along Peter’s bare stomach, almost to his pelvis before bringing his fingers back up along Peter’s chest. The blankets weren’t drawn up, because Tony was watching Peter’s cock, idly, enjoying that it was still somewhat aroused, but deflating a little, now.

Feeling a little sleepy and a lot relaxed, Peter stretched beside him, almost bonelessly, his own hand on Tony’s arm.

“What time are you leaving, tomorrow?”

“Early. Probably right after breakfast.” Stark took his eyes from Peter’s cock and looked down at him. “If I didn’t have my suit, I’d have to leave earlier than that, but I’m going to fly up to the compound, which will give me an extra hour or so to spend with you before I go.”

“That’s nice.”

Tony smiled.

“Yes. But no waking me up with hot sex, Peter Parker,” he murmured, sliding his hand along the boy’s hip. “I’m not just someone that you can seduce right before a trip, you know. I need post coital cuddling, and I won’t have time for that. So, no shenanigans. Got it?”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He was soft by then, and Tony leaned over the side of the bed and found their boxers. He handed Peter’s to him, and shifted enough to be able to put his own on without dislodging the younger man too much.

“Put those on.”

“We’re not going to sleep naked?” Peter asked, somewhat surprised – and maybe a little disappointed.

“No. It would be too tempting for me. You’ll see.” They both slipped their underwear on and now Tony _did_ pull the blankets up over their bodies, even as he reached for Peter. “FRIDAY? Lights.”

The lights went off, and Tony kissed Peter, tenderly, before rolling him onto his side, away from him. Before Peter could ask why, he felt the older man’s much larger body sidle right up against him; Tony’s belly and chest pressing right up against Peter’s back and rear. There was a delicious hardness suddenly pressing against him, and he shivered. Tony brought his arm around him, holding him close and nuzzling his neck in the dark.

“Now I get it,” Peter said in the dark, his voice amused.

“You’re not going to, _yet_ ,” Tony said, purposefully misunderstanding, and making Peter chuckle. “That’s the whole point of having some cloth between me and you…”

Even as he said it, though, he was maneuvering their bodies so that he had his groin right up against Peter’s crack. It made the boy shiver, remembering how much of him there was when he was fully aroused, but it wasn't just in _nervousness_ , now. He pressed back against that tense body, and heard Tony catch his breath – which made him smile, but decide that it would be merciful if he’d change the subject.

“What’s your fish’s name?” he asked.

“What?”

“Your _fish_ ,” Peter repeated. “The one that is so spoiled…? What’s its name?”

There was a slight hesitation.

“Bubba.”

Peter snorted.

“ _Bubba_?”

“You got a problem with Bubba, Parker?” Tony asked, his hold tightening just a little, and his lips coming to Peter’s neck, briefly. “What was _yours_ named?”

“Sam.”

“Sam’s a good name.” Another kiss, and then Tony relaxed behind him – but didn’t move away. “Go to sleep, honey.”


	14. 14

Warm breath nuzzling his neck and jaw woke Peter the next morning a little later than usual. The strong arm around his belly tightened its grip just a little, and then pulled him backward against Tony’s hard body – and his throbbing erection, which was straining against his boxers and pressing right up into Peter’s crack.

“Mmmm…” he pressed back, feeling the cloth actually giving way a little to allow the head of Tony’s cock to press against his entrance – although the _fabric_ did, as well – and it made him moan, softly.

“Jesus… if you keep making noises like _that_ , I’m going to call Steve Rogers and tell him they’re on their own this weekend.”

Peter chuckled, feeling good. It was definitely a new thing for him to wake up in someone’s arms like he was, but it was nice.

“Feels good…”

“Yeah?” Tony’s hand slid down Peter’s belly and found his already hard cock. He stroked it a few times, enjoying how perfectly it filled his hand. “Does _that_ feel good, too?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, it does.” Tony kept his hand where it was, although he stilled his stroking. “What are your kinks, Peter?” he asked. “What do you like?”

“I don’t know, yet,” the boy admitted. “You know I don’t have much experience.”

Try _none_ and it’d be closer to the truth.

“What excites you?” Tony pressed. “Tell me a couple of things that you’ve heard of, or seen in a movie or something, that you wanted to try, or wanted someone to do to you.”

“Blowjobs.”

A soft chuckle.

“That’s off your bucket list, now. What else?”

Peter hesitated.

“Have you ever seen – or read – about those guys that can be inside someone and if they put their hand against the person’s stomach, they can feel their cock inside them?”

“I know what you mean, yes.” His hand moved to Peter’s stomach, and he pressed his cock against his rear, again. “That interests you?”

“It fascinates me.”

“Do you want to be the one who is fucking that person? Or the one being fucked?”

“I don’t know. I…” he caught Tony’s hand. “You’re pretty big.”

The older man chuckled.

“It looks that way because you’ve never had sex, honey,” he told him. “I’m bigger than average, yes, but not huge like some of the porn stars you’ve probably seen. Done properly – and with care – a guy my size can fit into you, perfectly. You’ll see. What else?”

“I don’t know. What about you? What do you like?”

“Besides watching you get soft after I blow you, you mean?” Tony asked, and Peter could hear the amusement in his tone. “I have a variety of kinks.”

“Like?”

“I like to dominate my partner – if they’re willing to allow it. I enjoy younger guys, obviously, and I have a definite preference for being on top.” He kissed the back of Peter’s neck and regretfully let him go and rolled out of the bed. “If I keep this conversation up, I’m going to be late – and while I don’t mind, so much, I’ll never hear the end of it from Romanoff.”

“It’s crazy how you can just throw those names out like that,” Peter said, rolling over, too, so he could watch the older man. “Like they’re just normal people, instead of superheroes.”

“They’re normal people to me,” Tony pointed out, dropping his boxers and tossing them in a hamper. “I’m going to take a shower. You are not invited – _this time_. No school and no work, today?”

“Nope.”

“Then lounge in bed, or get up and look around the place, if you want. Plenty to do to keep you occupied – here and in the neighborhood. I want you to feel at home, here. I’ll be out in a minute, and I’ll make you breakfast.”

“Alright.”

Peter admired Tony’s rear as the man turned and headed into the bathroom – but didn’t close the door behind him. A moment later, he heard water turning on and a short time after that the sound of singing. The boy smiled and stretched, and then with a somewhat regretful sigh, he got out of bed and found his jeans. He could take a shower later, after Tony had left.

Instead he wandered out into the living room and found his shirt. He put it on while looking around the living room and the entrance, admiring some of the artwork before he walked over to sit at the island, looking at the fish. It was nothing special, really; gold with fainter patches of yellow. But it was Tony’s and that made it special to Peter – even if Tony had just had him a few days.

There was a small container of fish food, and Peter hesitated.

“FRIDAY? When was Bubba last fed?”

He didn’t even know if the AI would respond without Tony being there, and felt a little bit of a thrill when she did.

_“Seven-fifteen, last night. The instructions call for the fish to be fed once a day with a pinch of the food from the container.”_

“Thank you.”

_“There is also a plant to be watered,”_ the AI added, helpfully.

“Oh?” Peter looked around the kitchen and noticed a flowering plant on the small dining room table, in a small beam of sunlight. He walked over and looked at it. It was pretty, with dark green leaves and brilliant yellow flowers. Some where open and facing the sunlight, and others were closed. “Is this new?” the boy asked, admiring it. “I don’t remember seeing it when I was here, last.”

_“You are very perceptive, Peter. It was brought in yesterday to give you further incentive to stay here.”_

“You weren’t supposed to _tell_ him that,” Tony chided, coming from the bedroom. His hair was still damp from his shower, and he was wearing pants and shoes, but was bare-chested. Peter realized why when he walked over to the coffee table and picked up the nanite housing for his suit and pressed it against the center of his chest before he walked over to stand next to where Peter was sitting. He pressed an absent kiss against the boy’s temple, smiling. “That was _supposed_ to be our secret, FRIDAY.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Peter told him, smiling as well.

“I’m a sweet guy.”

There was a feminine snort of disbelief from the walls, and Peter smirked.

“Oh?”

“Don’t listen to her, Peter,” Tony said, rolling his eyes, dramatically. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Whatever you want,” the boy told him. “Should I water the plant?”

“I watered it, yesterday,” he replied. “It only needs it once a week, or so.”

“So I don’t need to water it?”

“Nope. But Bubba still needs fed.”

Peter shook his head, amused and somewhat touched. Obviously with an AI in the place and possibility of an automatic fish feeder, Tony didn’t need anyone to really watch the place. Which made Peter feel wanted.

“I’ll take good care of him for you.”

“Can you think of anything you need?”

“I’m good.” The thought of rattling around in the spacious apartment all weekend was a little daunting to someone who had never had such luxury, before, but it was exciting, too, really. “Last chance to change your mind about having me here.”

Tony shook his head, his eyes amused.

“I _want_ you here.”

He did, too. When they were done with this stupid mission, Tony wanted to know exactly where to find Peter. The fact that he was going to be at his place, _alone_? That was perfect, really. If he came home tired, he’d simply go to bed and maybe Peter would be willing to join him and cuddle, if nothing else. If he came home feeling horny, well, maybe Peter would be willing to help him with that, too. He was flexible enough to be fine with pretty much any scenario.

For now, though, he’d simply feed them both and make sure the boy knew where to find everything. Of course, even if he didn’t, FRIDAY could tell him where it was – or order one, if Tony didn’t have it.

“Thank you.”

“Thank _you_. Eggs and ham?”

“Sounds good.”

><><><><>

“So he’s at your place right now?”

“Yup.”

“A _stranger_?”

“He’s not a stranger, guys. I’ve known him a couple of weeks.”

“He could be an axe murderer for all you know,” Romanoff said, shaking her head.

“He’s from _Iowa_.”

“They have axes in Iowa, Tony.”

“And _murderers_ ,” Clint added.

“He’s not an axe murderer. He’s a brilliant kid who’s absolfuckinglutely adorable, and if not for this stupid mission, he and I could be out doing something interesting – and maybe _naughty_. So instead, I’m here on the plane, and he’s at my place, fish-sitting.”

“When did you get a _fish_?” Rogers asked.

“A long time ago.”

Romanoff frowned.

“I don’t’ remember seeing one when I was there last week.”

“Because he’s a _ninja_ fish, okay? He only comes out at night, when there’s danger to be faced down. When the sun comes up, he's back to being mild-mannered and innocent. Now tell me about this mission so I can get some sleep.”

He’d been up fairly late, after all.

The others looked at each other, and then shook their heads, and shrugged.

“What’s he doing right now?” Romanoff asked, curious what a house guest does when the owner was away.

Tony asked FRIDAY, who was more than willing to relay.

“He’s asleep.”

“So late?”

“It’s not that late, and he works his ass off between school and his job. I hope he sleeps all weekend.”

Or at least until Tony got back.


	15. 15

Peter spent his first day at Tony’s apartment doing exactly what the billionaire had told him to do; relaxing.

When they were done eating breakfast, Peter had offered to clean up the kitchen to save Tony the trouble. Tony had smiled, and his eyes had darkened, just a little, making Peter shiver in reaction – and maybe _anticipation_. Especially when the older man had mentioned that if Peter did the dishes that would give him a little bit of time for him to make sure the boy missed him while he was gone.

Just as Tony’s hand had reached for Peter’s jeans, however, FRIDAY had announced a call from Steve Rogers, who was letting Tony know that they were waiting for him, and asking if he was flying out in the ironman suit, or did he need Steve to send someone to fly into the city and bring him to the compound in the jet? Stark had cursed under his breath, winked at Peter and had said he was on his way.

When the call ended, he kissed Peter, soundly, and told him that if he needed or wanted anything, simply ask FRIDAY and she’d relay to him, if needed. And then had said that he’d call him later to make sure Bubba wasn't floating in the bowl. Peter had walked with him to the balcony and had felt a shiver of excitement of a completely different kind when Tony activated the Ironman suit and had launched himself from the balcony and vanished into the morning sky only a moment later.

Then he’d gone back inside, had done the dishes and had gone back to bed.

Only _this_ time, he went to the guest room, since he wasn't sure that Tony would want him sleeping in his room without him there.

He’d woken sometime around noon, after sleeping more soundly than he had in a very long time. He took a shower and unpacked a few toiletries, setting them in the guest bathroom before dressing in a pair of clean jeans and a t-shirt. Then he’d made a quick lunch of a couple of sandwiches and had decided to forgo his schoolwork and lounge on the sofa for a while.

Where he’d dozed off, again.

The apartment was a lot more relaxing than a small house filled with women, he decided, when he woke up a few hours later. It was quiet, of course, and the view of the city from the windows was amazing. Peter didn’t have to work for two days, and while he _did_ have schoolwork to take care of, he didn’t have any classes that he had to attend until Monday so there was nothing pressing on him, just then.

It made him lethargic and lazy, and normally he didn’t allow any of that. Right then, however, he did – and was really wallowing in the freedom to be as lazy as he wanted to be.

It was like having a vacation – without leaving the city.

><><><>

His phone rang sometime around six that evening. Peter was sprawled on the couch, again, and hadn’t even touched his homework. He’d spent what time he hadn’t been napping watching movies on the big screen television above the fireplace. The boy looked at the caller ID and smiled.

“Hello?”

_“Hey, honey.”_

“Hi.”

_“Settling in alright?”_

“Yes. Pretty much slept all day.”

_“Which means you needed it. How do you feel?”_

“I’m fine. What are you doing?”

“ _Secret Avengers things,”_ Tony told him, and Peter could hear the amusement in his tone of voice. _“I’ll tell you all about it when we get back,_ ” he promised. “ _Did you have dinner?”_

“Not, yet.”

_“Eat something_ filling _, alright? Not just toast.”_

“I’m not really hungry.”

_“Do as I say,”_ Tony told him. “ _The fridge is filled with fresh stuff that needs to be eaten. FRIDAY can give you recipes, if you need ideas.”_

“All right.”

_“I miss you.”_

That made Peter smile. The only time he ever heard that was from May and sometimes Ben – and it never sounded like Tony was making it sound.

“I wish you were here,” Peter told him, truthfully.

_“Yeah?”_

“Yes.”

_“Because you want me to do naughty things to you?”_

Peter rolled his eyes, but he felt himself start to harden, just a little. He _did_ want Tony to do naughty things to him.

“No. Of course not.”

_“FRIDAY?”_

_“Yes?”_

The AI didn’t have any trouble listening in on the phone call, even though Peter’s phone wasn't networked in. Tony’s definitely was.

_“Check Peter’s pants. Are they on fire?”_

Peter chuckled, even as FRIDAY replied in the negative.

“I can miss you without that being one of the reasons,” he told the older man.

_“But it’s one of the reasons, right?”_

“Maybe.”

_“What do you want me to do to you?”_

“Who’s listening…?”

_“No one, honey,”_ Tony assured him. _“I’m in the air – in my suit. It’s just us, right now. Do you want my mouth on you, right now?”_

Peter nodded, even though Tony couldn’t see it, and decided to go ahead and reply, truthfully.

“Yes. And I want to have you in my mouth, too.”

_“Jesus, Peter, my suit isn’t going to fit if we continue this conversation.”_

That made him laugh, although it also brought a very vivid image of Tony’s fully erect cock to mind, which made him slide his hand down and under his jeans.

“Sorry.”

_“I’m not. We definitely need to finish this conversation, later. Need anything?”_

“No. Thank you.”

_“Good. Sleep while you can, alright? It’s morning here, right now, and I’m going to call you as soon as I can – when I’m not supposed to be focusing on other things. Probably the middle of the night.”_

“Okay.”

_“See you soon.”_

The call ended and Peter set his phone on the coffee table, but didn’t take his hand out of his pants for several minutes, and he was hard by the time that he did. Realizing that he didn’t have to worry about any nosy roommates happening in on him, he still looked around, furtively, before standing up and going to his backpack, which was on the island.

He carried it into the guestroom and closed the door behind him, and then opened it up and pulled out the still packaged dildo that he’d bought. He’d purchased it before he’d met Tony. It was small and fairly thin, but intimidating at the store and he’d found that he hadn’t been able to find the privacy to try and use it. Not with a nosy roommate sharing his room and three women to share the bathroom with.

There just hadn’t been any opportunity or time.

Now, however, with Tony’s place to himself for the next couple of days, he’d packed it when he’d gathered some things, thinking that it might be a good way to ease himself into readiness for what he wanted to do with Tony. Just to get an idea of what it would feel like.

He didn’t need to read the package; he knew what it said by heart. He took the dildo out of the packaging, went into the bathroom to wash it like instructed, and then pulled a very small and discreet tube of lube from his jeans before he dropped them and his boxers and stepped out of them. He pulled his shirt off, as well, and then walked back to the bed and sat on the edge, looking at the dildo he was holding.

It wasn't even close to the same size as Tony. It wasn't even as big as he was, when he was hard. Peter’s free hand went to his cock, and he closed his eyes, beginning to stroke himself as he imagined Tony was near him, and it was his hand – or his mouth – that was really touching him. It didn’t take him long to get hard, and when he was, he rolled over onto his belly on the bed, his cock now brushing against the comforter and his legs parting. He freed his hands in order to put a little lube on the dildo, and then tried awkwardly to press the end of the thing against his entrance.

And moaned at the discomfort that it caused when he tried to push it in.

><><><><>

“What do we have, FRIDAY?”

_“Everything is clear, boss. We can call it for the day.”_

“Good. I’m tired of being in the air.”

He directed the suit to the ground, and disengaged it as he walked to the others, who were watching for him.

“How did it look, Tony?” Steve asked.

“They’re gone.”

“All of them?”

“The only ones left are hiding under a rock, somewhere.”

“Good work. We’ll finish things up, then, and if all goes well, we can leave soon.”

“And you can get back to your axe murderer,” Romanoff added.

“He’s not an axe murderer,” Tony told her, rolling his eyes. “I’ll meet you guys back here in the morning.”

He activated the suit, again, and launched himself into the air, once more, heading for the building that housed their temporary quarters. Not ideal, since he’d have much preferred a five-star suite somewhere nice. But it was better than sleeping in the jet or something.

“What’s Peter up to?” Tony asked his AI.

“ _Sleeping,”_ came the reply. There was only a faint pause. “ _Ask me what he was doing, earlier.”_

He raised an eyebrow.

“What was he doing, earlier?”

A video came onto his heads-up display, and only a moment into it, the Ironman suit almost crashed into a tree.

_“Jesus.”_

He needed to get home.


	16. 16

Peter’s phone woke him.

He opened his eyes, sleepily, and reached for it, idly glancing at the time as he did and smiling when he saw the caller ID.

“Hey…”

_“Hey. Did I wake you?”_

“Yeah. It’s okay, though. I pretty much slept all day.”

_“Good. How do you feel?”_

“I’m good, Tony. What about you? Everything alright?”

_“Yeah. We’re finishing up here, soon. I wanted to call and see your pretty face, though. Video conference me.”_

The boy hit the button on his phone, and Tony’s handsome visage came up on the small screen.

“Better?”

_“Not even close,”_ the billionaire complained. _“You need a new phone. That one’s a dinosaur.”_

Peter smiled.

“I don’t need video calls very often,” he admitted. “Sorry.”

_“FRIDAY? Put me on the screen in the room.”_

A moment later, Peter was slightly startled when the display on the TV on the wall turned on and Tony was now filling that screen, instead. He was bare-chested and leaning back on a sofa, and the background showed a room that was sparsely decorated, but looked private.

“Where are you?”

_“Temporary quarters,”_ Tony replied, rolling his eyes. “ _The military doesn’t spend a lot on luxuries, unfortunately – and this isn’t even_ our _military, so I can’t bitch to anyone about it. Why are you in the guestroom instead of mine?”_

“Because you’re not here.”

_“I want you sleeping in my bed, honey,”_ Tony assured him. _“I want your scent all over my things when I get home.”_

“Are you calling me _smelly_?”

He smiled.

_“The_ good _smelly, I promise.”_

“Uh huh.”

_“Are you naked?”_ Tony asked, changing the subject, and obviously not missing that Peter was bare-chested when he’d sat up.

“Yes.”

_“Prove it.”_

Now Peter rolled his eyes and pulled the blankets aside, revealing that he was, indeed, naked.

“Better?”

He started to cover himself, again, but Tony held up a hand.

_“It’s perfect. Keep them off. Please?”_

The boy wasn't surprised, really, since he already knew Tony liked looking at him naked. Since every stripper in the business was an exhibitionist to some extent, he did as he was asked, and even moved them more to the side, leaning back a little.

“Like this?”

_“Yeah, that’s good…”_ The camera Tony was using – presumably in his laptop, or maybe an exterior on his suit? tilted a little, and now Peter could see that Tony wasn't wearing anything, either. Even better, as far as _Peter_ was concerned, the older man was holding his cock in his hand, stroking it, lightly, as he spoke. _“I’ve been thinking of you all day.”_

Peter smiled at that.

“Yeah? What were you thinking?”

_“How much I want to touch you…”_ Tony ran his fingertip along the shaft of his cock, stopping at the head. “ _Touch yourself for me, Peter… get hard.”_

That wasn't a problem, really. Peter was already breathless at the sight of the handsome older man stroking himself, and it was easy to remember how it had felt when he was touching _Peter_. The blood began rushing south even before the boy wrapped his fingers around the shaft of his cock.

“What would you do to me, Tony?” he asked. “If you were here, I mean?”

_“I’d make you feel so good. Suck on you until you were writhing under me, begging me to let you climax. Whining so prettily as I played with your cock.”_

Peter’s hand was moving faster.

“And what _else_?”

_“Could I do anything?”_

“Yes.”

_“I could put you on your belly…?”_ he asked, his eyes dark with hunger as his own strokes quickened.

“Yes.”

_“Spread your legs and caress your ass cheeks?”_

Peter was almost breathless, already.

“Yes… please…”

_“Play with you? Rub the head of my cock against you? Hold you down and slide into you until I had you pinned to the bed?”_

“Fuck…”

_“That’s what I’d do to you, baby,”_ Tony told him, enjoying Peter’s reaction. Loving the way that it wasn't just his face that was flushed, now; his neck and chest were getting there, as well, and his cock was swollen and hard. Even in the display he was using, he could see it was sheened with precum, which was only making it easier for the boy to jerk off. _“I’d fuck you. Make you mine. Hold those perfect hips of yours with both hands and drive myself into you over and over, until I was filling you with my cum. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”_

“Yes… oh shit… yeah.”

Peter had closed his eyes, now, but that was fine with Tony.

_“I’m going to make you mine,”_ he repeated. _“Fuck you in my bed until you’re so filled with me that you can’t move. Until-“_

The boy’s soft cry of pleasure interrupted him, and he watched as Peter climaxed; spurts of his cum painting his belly and chest. Tony murmured encouragement as Peter continued to stroke himself, but the older man was close, now, too, and when Peter opened his eyes, looking fuck- dazed and satisfied, it set him off, as well.

He grunted his release, and admired the rope of cum that almost hit the display in front of him, followed almost immediately by another. He sighed and stroked himself a few more times, just to make sure he was done, and then smiled.

_“Jesus, I needed that…”_ he said. “After the day I’ve had.”

“It was so good,” Peter agreed, laying back a little more, now, letting Tony watch as he started to soften, without the older man requesting it _. “Thanks.”_

Tony chuckled.

_“You’re welcome. Clean up and go sleep in_ my _bed, alright?”_

“You don’t mind?”

_“No, honey. It’s where I want to find you when I come home.”_ He licked his own cum off his fingers. _“We can continue this conversation then, yes?”_

“Yes.”

><><><><><

Peter’s second day started much the same as the first. Only this time he made his own breakfast.

He woke in Tony’s bed, and stretched, enjoying the silk sheets on his bare skin and the fact that he’d slept in, once again. _Unheard_ of, really – especially when Molly was home, because she was up with the sun doing yoga, or social media blogs – and always asking him his reaction to what she’d write.

He didn’t mind, usually, but waking alone in the room was a luxury that he didn’t expect to be able to afford until he was out of college, now. A place of his own wasn't going to happen until he had a good job and was settled – and maybe not even then.

Yawning, he eventually pulled himself out of bed and headed to the bathroom. He didn’t need a shower, though, and he smiled at the reminder of what he and Tony had done the evening before. Even when the man wasn't there, he was still arousing him – and treating him well.

Peter washed his hands and face and wet his unruly hair so he could comb it down, and then went out into the main living area of the apartment.

_“Good morning, Peter.”_

“Hi, FRIDAY.”

That was something that would take some getting used to, and just another reminder of how amazing Tony was. An interactive AI? _Insane_.

_“Boss wants to know if you need anything?”_

He smiled.

“He _asked_ you? Just now?”

_“I was told to let him know when you woke, and yes, when I advised him, he asked me to relay the question.”_

“What is he doing?”

_“Dodging bullets.”_

“ _What_?”

_“Your blood pressure just elevated…”_ she pointed out, helpfully. _“He is flushing out pockets of resistance for the local military units to capture – but they are resisting.”_

And he was bothering to talk to Peter?

“Is he alright?”

There was a slight pause and then it was Tony’s voice that he heard, next.

_“Hi, honey. Miss me?”_

The boy walked over to sit at the island.

“Should you be talking to me, right now?”

_“I’m fine. What are you doing, today? You’re off?”_

“Yes. I thought I’d go for a walk, or something.”

_“Getting stir crazy?”_

“A _little_ ,” he admitted. “It’s relaxing here, though,” he added. “Thank you.”

_“Did you feed Bubba?”_

Peter glanced at the fishbowl.

“Yes.”

_“He’s not dead, though, right? You’re not going for a walk, today, because you killed him and need to go buy another fish to replace him?”_

“He’s _fine_. Says hello.”

There was a chuckle, and then a muffled curse.

“Gotta go, Peter,” Tony said. _“I’ll talk to you, later, okay?”_

“Be safe.”

_“Always. Eat something.”_

The conversation ended and Peter smiled, wondering – not for the first time – how he’d gotten so lucky that Tony Stark was interested enough in him that he was willing to tease him and spend time with him. He wasn't going to complain, though. It was like having the boyfriend that he’d never had, before – if your boyfriend was a high-profile, super rich, slightly (maybe _more_ than slightly?) erratic superhero. Peter shook his head, still amused, as he got up and went to open the fridge.

Breakfast, first, and then he’d decide what he wanted to do with the rest of his day.


	17. 17

_“You’re eating right?”_

“Yes.”

_“Getting plenty of sleep?”_

“Of course. All I do is sleep. You know that.”

May Parker’s indelicate snort made Peter smile.

_“Yes, we all know how lazy you are.”_

“It’s _true_ , this time, though,” Peter assured her. “I’ve had the weekend off, and I spent it house sitting for a guy I know. All I’ve been doing is eating, goofing around and sleeping.”

A male voice came into the conference call – and it was audio, only, since Ben couldn’t figure out the video and kept hanging up on them every time he tried to activate it.

_“What did you do, today, Pete?”_

“Had a late breakfast, then I went for a walk and hit the farmer’s market down the street from my friend’s house.”

_“What did you get?”_ May asked, curiously.

“Nothing. You wouldn’t believe the insane prices they were charging. City people are crazy to pay a buck an ear for corn. And don’t get me started on the _fruit_.”

_“It’s not as easy to obtain in the city,”_ Ben reminded him. _“And the farmer’s have to haul it there – and probably there are all kinds of fees and charges to set up at the market that have to be covered.”_

Peter rolled his eyes.

“My friend has fresh food, already in his fridge, so I didn’t need anything.”

_“What did you have for lunch?”_ May challenged. “ _Would Jana have approved?”_

May knew all three of Peter’s roommates from having spoken with them, occasionally, and from everything Peter had told her and Ben about them. Ben didn’t quite approve of his nephew living with three unmarried, young and attractive women, but May thought it was a good thing – they could keep an eye on Peter now that he was too far away for her to do it.

“Sandwiches.”

_“That’s it?”_

“ _Three_ sandwiches,” he amended. “And dinner, tonight, was chicken with rice and carrots. I’m doing fine, guys. How are you?”

_“We’re fine.”_

The conversation turned to the farm, and how things were going back home, and a couple of anecdotes about what Peter’s aunt and uncle had been up to since the last time they spoke to their nephew. He was smiling when the call ended, and went to get his backpack so he could finish his schoolwork before he went to bed.

>><><><><

It was sometime in the middle of the night when he was woken.

A shift in the mattress and a slight chill as his blankets were pulled back didn’t really do more than pull him from the dream that he’d been having, but the strong arm that was suddenly wrapping around his waist made him open his eyes with a start.

“Shhh…” the whisper was Tony’s, and the soft breath in his ear made him shiver, again, even as he felt the blankets coming back over him, and the warm body settling behind him. “It’s just me.”

Wide awake, now, Peter rolled in the older man’s embrace and saw him smiling at him in the faint light from the open bathroom door.

“You’re home?”

“Yes.”

“Everything okay?”

“Of course it is, honey. That was the whole point of them taking me with them. We’re all fine, and the world is safe from tyranny, once more.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Peter’s forehead. “I _missed_ you.”

Peter smiled, and pressed his hand against Tony’s belly, noticing for the first time that the older man was bare-chested, and had taken off the housing unit for his suit. He wondered if Tony had realized that he’d gone to bed naked – and decided that he probably hadn’t missed the fact.

“I missed you, too.”

Tony groaned and pulled Peter close, both arms going around him, now.

“Let me just hold you for a minute, okay?”

Peter was willing. It was just as much a novelty for him to have someone join him in bed in the middle of the night as it probably was for Tony to be doing it. Well, maybe not. It was Tony Stark, after all. But it felt good to cuddle up against him, and Peter’s hand went to Tony’s side and slide down, lower, along his hip.

Not feeling any fabric as his traced the line of the older man’s hip and followed it to his rear, which was wonderfully rounded.

Tony was naked, too.

A big hand slid to Peter’s hip, and the billionaire nestled his face in the junction of Peter’s neck and shoulder as he cupped the boy’s rear with that hand, holding him loosely – in case his advances weren’t wanted.

Peter simply shivered, slightly, despite the warmth Tony was giving off.

“Tony…”

“Shhh… we don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to.”

“I _want_ to.”

Tony shivered, too.

“We’ll go slow, though. Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Peter tucked his face against Tony’s chest, holding still while the older man’s hand roamed his rear, caressing and kneading his ass cheek, but not doing anything more than that, just then.

“How is your ass, honey?” he asked. “Is it sore?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know about your toy…”

Peter pulled away – or, he _tried_ to, but Tony had him in his strong grip, and simply held his hand on his bottom to keep him from moving too far.

“What?”

Tony smiled.

“FRIDAY showed me what you were doing.”

“Oh, _fuck_ …” Peter was mortified. “I was just… I just wanted… I mean, I’ve _never_ , and I wanted-“

“Peter…” Tony’s smile turned gentle, and his hand moved to cup the boy’s cheek – the one beside his beautiful mouth, this time. “It’s _fine_ , honey. Don’t be embarrassed. It was so _hot_ , watching you.”

“It was?”

“Your technique leaves a lot to be desired, but the _sounds_ you were making…? Holy shit I about messed the inside of my suit then and there.”

“I wanted to try it,” Peter admitted. “To get an idea of what it would feel like when… I mean, _if_ we ever…”

“It didn’t look like you enjoyed it.”

“It looks like it’s pleasurable on all the sites,” Peter told him, still blushing, furiously, but not as embarrassed as he had been. “But it was really uncomfortable, and I couldn’t get it in too far at the angle I was using.”

“I saw.” Tony brushed his fingers along Peter’s side. “Like I said; your technique is all wrong. And warm flesh is much better than cold plastic could ever be.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course, honey.” He kissed him, softly, and his hand cupped the boy’s rear, fingers sliding along his crack. “Let me show you?”

“Yes.”

Tony felt a surge of excitement that he had to force down, and he kissed Peter again before rolling the boy onto his back and then nudging his legs apart so he could settle between them, pushing the blankets off to the side to allow him to see what he was doing.

“Your first problem,” the older man told him, pressing a multitude of tiny kisses against Peter’s face, then his neck and jaw. “Is that you didn’t use enough lube. Sex with men is a lot easier with a lot of lubrication. Women make their own, but we men need some help to make things work smoothly – although there’s something to be said for a little friction, too. We can get into that later, though.”

“Okay.” He looked up at Tony, and the billionaire’s stomach and heart flip-flopped at the look in his eyes and the hunger that Tony saw in his expression. “What do I do?”

Tony shifted only long enough to reach for the stand next to the bed – and the tube of lube in the drawer – before reclaiming his position.

“You lay back and enjoy it. I’ll do all the work, this time.”


	18. 18

Peter nodded, but he chewed on his lower lip, just a little nervously. He wasn't scared; he just didn’t want to do something wrong and ruin it for Tony.

“All right.”

“But make sure you tell me if I do something that you don’t like.”

The older man hadn’t missed his uncertainty, but he wasn't worried. He was extremely good in bed, and he was going to make sure Peter didn’t have any complaints about their first time together – and the boy’s first time, at all.

“Yeah. Okay. I-“

Peter gasped when Tony’s lips went to his chest; one hand covering a nipple while the other was suckled on. He tensed, watching Tony as the man switched his attentions to the other nipple for a long moment, his hand tenderly caressing Peter’s stomach and hip. There was no urgency in Tony’s demeaner as he slowly kissed his way lower, mouth, lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire along Peter’s torso, and then his pelvis. His tongue was tasting every part of him, teasing as Tony worked his way painfully slowly toward Peter’s aching and eager cock.

Well aware that blowjobs were now nothing too new or scary for the boy, Tony didn’t hesitate when he drew Peter into his mouth and began teasing him into even more arousal. His hand found Peter’s balls, caressing and rolling them together and singly as he sucked on him, but didn’t apply enough to pressure or suction to allow him to get off, just then. He released Peter’s cock and shifted enough to suck on first one and then the other testicle, his hand caressing the boy’s belly as he did.

Peter moaned and arched against the sensation, but still Tony took his time.

He wanted the boy at a fever pitch, really.

The older man finally moved, opening the lube and applying some liberally to his fingers before sliding his hand along Peter’s scrotum, first, but then along his crack, nudging the boy’s knees even further apart. His own cock bobbed, anxiously, at the sight of Peter so open and vulnerable under him.

Waiting to be fucked until he couldn’t feel anything but Tony on top of him and inside him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, watching for any sign of discomfort as his finger found, and then entered, Peter’s tight hole. “So perfect. And so fucking tight…”

The boy moaned in anticipation and impatience, but Tony gentled him with a kiss, keeping his hand where it was as he began working Peter’s ass, stretching him and then looking for – and finding – his prostate.

“ _Jesus_ …”

Peter’s hips shifted, and his back arched, bringing his rear completely off the mattress at the sensation.

“That’s the spot,” Tony crooned with approval.

He kissed Peter, again, and then turned his attention to stretching the boy to prepare him for what was to come – and making sure to be even more thorough than usual, since not only would it be easier for Peter to take him, but it was making it more pleasurable, as well. His fingers – and now he had _three_ inside Peter – were sliding in and out, bumping that sweet spot with every thrust and Peter was definitely responding.

His hips were moving in time to Tony’s motions, and there were moans and soft cries of pleasure accentuating the pleased noises that the older man was making as he watched Peter’s reaction, expertly gauging his readiness.

“Please…” Peter whispered, trying to move his hips and force Tony’s fingers back against the spot inside him that felt so amazing.

“Yes, baby…” Tony murmured, shifting again, between Peter’s legs as he removed his fingers and took hold of his achingly hard cock. The head was smeared with precum, but still he slathered more lube along it – and his shaft, just because. “I’m so hard for you. So ready to make you mine.”

Peter brought his knees up, just a little, when Tony’s hands lifted them, and the bigger man’s arms kept those long legs out of the way while he lined his cock with Peter’s still tight entrance. Tony eased forward, forcing himself against Peter’s opening and there was only the briefest of resistance before he breached the tight ring of muscles that he’d been working. He crooned, leaning over and pressing his cheek against Peter’s as the boy moaned, softly; a mixture of pain and pleasure and wonder.

Tony continued the pressure until he was hilted deep within the boy, and he turned his head and kissed Peter’s cheek, tasting the salt of tears, but not feeling the tension or hearing anything that indicated he was hurting him.

“Shhh… we’re there, honey,” he said, softly. “I’m in you, now. Easy… that was the hard part. Now it gets exciting.”

“Jesus, Tony,” Peter whispered.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No. A little? It’s okay, though.”

The older man didn’t move his head from where he was right up against Peter, but his hips shifted back, pulling out, somewhat, and then gently sliding back into place, his cock once more filling Peter, who moaned at the sensation.

Tony did it, again, his motion easy as he began to fuck Peter, his thrusts slow and steady, and his head coming up so that he could watch the boy’s expression as he made love to him.

“You’re so tight,” he told him. “So fucking perfect.”

He angled, slightly, and the head of his cock brushed Peter’s prostate as it slid back into the boy – who groaned and closed his eyes, but arched up against the thrust, now.

“More.”

“Watch me, Peter,” Tony ordered, gently. “Open your eyes.”

Peter did as he was told, looking up into Tony’s eyes, seeing approval, and lust and excitement there. It made him arch against the next thrust.

“Harder, Tony.”

Stark didn’t delay. He raised his upper body, bracing himself on his arms – one on either side of Peter’s shoulders – and methodically slid into him, over and over, smiling triumphantly down at the boy. He was definitely enjoying it.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“We’re going to speed up the pace a bit,” Tony warned, even as he put action to word and began to thrust harder and faster.

Peter’s hands came up to clutch at Tony’s shoulders as the sensation of being invaded so perfectly – and forcefully, now – became almost overwhelming. His knees raised more, almost to his chest, and Tony grunted, slamming himself home, now, repeatedly, as he fucked Peter’s tight ass. He was already building to climax – not surprisingly, considering the build up that they’d had toward this very moment – but he wanted to make sure Peter had his own completion, first.

Another instance of making sure things went right in order to have another go at him at a later time.

His weight went to one arm, freeing the other, and Tony’s hand found Peter’s cock, which wasn't as hard as it had been.

“This won’t do,” Tony chided, leaning down and kissing Peter, heatedly, as he slammed himself deep, again. “You need to get hard for me, baby. Show me that it’s good for you, too.”

He encouraged the boy with word, tone, and his hand, and it was only a few minutes before Peter was just as hard as Tony, now. He was writhing under him, now, legs wrapped around him, holding tight as Tony rode him, cries of pleasure music to the older man’s ears. With a spasm that Tony felt deep inside him, Peter climaxed into Tony’s hand, moaning as his cock emptied all over the billionaire.

Tony stroked him for another long moment, making sure he was finished, and then turned his attention from Peter’s pleasure to his own, allowing his very real desire to dominate to take the forefront for a moment as he held Peter down with one hand, now, and drove deep into him, over and over, until he finally grunted and came, his cock erupting inside the boy and painting his inner walls with his cum.

Peter sighed at the sensation – another first for him – and pulled Tony down on top of him, to allow him to cover him, completely, as the billionaire spasmed deep inside him for another long moment.

Tony’s sigh was just as satisfied, and he stilled, feeling his heart pounding in his chest – and certain he could hear and feel Peter’s as well.

“You okay?” he asked the boy.

“Yeah.” Better than okay, really. He just didn’t know how to describe it, just then. “That was good.”

“Just good?”

“ _Really_ good.”

Tony snorted and pulled back, looking down between them at their still attached bodies and watching as he pulled out, a trickle of his cum drooling out of Peter at the motion.

“You’re fucking amazing, Peter,” he murmured, his cock still twitching – as was Peter’s. “I knew it would be insanely good.”

“Was it?”

“You doubt?” Tony asked, reaching for the blankets, once more, and settling in beside Peter before pulling them over their two naked bodies.

He would have watched the boy soften, but they were both sweaty and he didn’t want to catch a chill – or Peter to catch one.

“I liked it,” Peter conceded, still trembling a little as he was pulled into Tony’s side with one strong arm. “But was it good for you? You pretty much did _everything_.”

Tony chuckled.

“That’s part of my kink to dominate,” he admitted. “I _like_ doing the work. Putting you in the position I want you in, and then having my way with you. Doing what I want to. Making you squirm under me.”

“Yeah?”

“M-hmm.” Tony pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek. “I’m happiest when I’m in charge – but you don’t need to worry. I’ll make sure you enjoy everything we do. Alright?”

“Alright.”

“Good.” He hugged Peter, tight, for a long moment. “Jesus that was _good_.”

Peter smiled at the satisfaction in Tony’s voice, and had to agree with him. As first times went, he was sure his had been way up there. Tony had proven that he definitely had the skill to make it feel amazing – just like Peter had assumed he would. He felt himself relaxing, now, against Tony, and closed his eyes, content to be held.

“It was great.”

“Yes, it was.” Tony nuzzled his face against Peter’s neck, his hand lightly caressing the firm body he was so possessively holding. “Anything you didn’t particularly like?”

There was a soft chuckle.

“You’ve been hanging out with the Avengers too long, Tony,” Peter told him, his own hand holding onto the older man to make sure he didn’t go anywhere, just then. “We aren’t really going to have to debrief every time we do this, are we?”

Jesus, he loved the kid’s cheekiness.

He wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him tightly for a moment in pure cheerfulness, before loosening his grip so they could relax enough to sleep.

“We do until I know what makes you happy and what you aren’t going to want a repeat of,” he replied. “Then, once I have you completely figured out, I’ll pull out, roll over and go to sleep.”

“With _some_ cuddling, first,” Peter said, amused, nestling once more against his larger body. Peter already knew that he liked the fact that Tony was so much bigger than he was. “I do like the cuddling.”

Which they both already knew.

“ _Always_ cuddling,” Tony promised him. “Go to sleep, honey. I need my rest…”

Peter didn’t argue.


	19. 19

“Wake up and kiss me goodbye…”

As the soft words were whispered in his ear, Tony felt a hand brush against his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. He opened his eyes, automatically reaching for – and _catching_ – Peter’s hand. The boy was looking down at him, his brown eyes smiling.

He was also fully dressed.

“Why are you wearing clothes, honey?” Tony asked, sleepily, hooking an arm around him and pulling Peter down on top of him, _above_ his blankets, unfortunately. “Take them off and I’ll make you moan.”

Peter smiled, his legs straddling Tony’s body and his cheek resting against the bare chest for a moment before he forced himself upright enough that now he wasn't sprawled on him, he was sitting on him, a little. Cowboy style.

“I thought old guys could only go a couple of times before they need to recuperate…?”

The billionaire scowled, good-naturedly, at that.

Peter had woken Tony sometime in the middle of the night with a hopeful expression and roaming fingers, politely (farm kids from Iowa were so _weird_ ) asking him if he could go another round. Tony had risen to the occasion more than willingly, and had once more pinned the boy to the bed with his eager thrusts, taking him time and making sure to reward his young lover with two mind blowing orgasms before he emptied himself into the boy, again.

“I’m not _that_ old…” he muttered. “And you’re sexy enough to get a rise out of me any time.”

Warm brown eyes were even more cheerful.

“I’ll remember that.”

“Get naked.”

“I can’t,” Peter told him, regretfully. “I have class this morning.” He leaned over and kissed him, again. “Thank you for last night – and this weekend. It was _perfect_.”

“Give me a minute to get up and I’ll drive you.”

“It’s all right.” He smiled down at him, touching his cheek, and Tony realized that his hair was still damp. He’d clearly been up for a while if he’d managed to get showered, start his day and was ready to go. “I’ll take the bus.”

“Skip class, Peter,” Tony told him. He didn’t want Peter to leave. “Stay in bed with me, today.”

“I can’t. We’re doing labs, today, and it’s not something I can make up, easily.”

The older man pouted at that.

“Do you work, tonight?”

“All week.”

A great, mournful sigh greeted that statement.

“But that means I don’t get to see you.”

“I’m sorry.” He meant it, too, Tony knew. “I have Wednesday morning classes off, if you want to get together for a couple of hours before I go to work.”

“That’s not _fair_ …” Tony said. “I want you here. With me. More than a couple of hours.”

“This weekend?”

Now the pout was turning slightly surly.

“If that’s all you want.”

Peter smiled.

“Don’t be like that, Tony. I need to work, you know that. I need the money.”

“I _have_ money. I’d give you all you need.”

“But then I’ll owe you, and I don’t want that.”

“You wouldn’t owe me anything, Peter,” Tony told him, catching his hand. “I’d just _give_ it to you. No strings attached. I have a shitload of it, and no one else I want to give it to. You wouldn’t have to pay me back.”

“I’d feel like I _did_. I don’t want to feel like that with you, Tony. I want to be with you because I _want_ to be with you, not because you gave me money and I thought I owed you something in return. Like some kind of kept possession.”

Since that was exactly how Tony felt about him – _already_ – the older man wisely kept his almost automatic reply to himself.

“Wednesday morning, then?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes. I’d like that.”

“ _And_ this weekend.”

“I work Friday and Saturday, but I think I’ll have Sunday off.”

“That’s too many hours, Peter,” Tony protested – and now he wasn't complaining about being apart from the boy. “You’re going to wear yourself out.”

“I know.” He’d done it before. He didn’t bother to repeat that he needed the money, though; Tony already knew and there was no sense addressing it, again. “Are you going to kiss me? Or do I leave with my lips untouched?”

“I could make you breakfast before you go.”

“I _already_ ate. Thank you for the offer, though.”

He _had_ been up a while, obviously – and Tony had slept through it all.

Of course, he’d been traveling – and had them come home to the best sex he could remember having in a very long time. There was no wonder he’d been tired.

“Do you have something for lunch?”

“Leftovers from dinner. Chicken and rice.”

“You’re so _practical_ ,” Tony said, pulling him down and kissing him, softly.

“It’s part of my charm,” Peter told him, running his hand under the blanket and sliding it along Tony’s hip. He kissed Tony’s chin, and then his collarbone, clearly wanting to stay, but unable to do so. “The coffee is already brewed.”

“Call me, okay? I don’t want to wait until Wednesday to hear your voice.”

“I will.” Peter sprawled, again, for just a moment, resting his cheek on Tony’s shoulder, while the older man put his arms around him. “You could come watch me, if you want. I could see you between sets, or if I’m serving.”

“I’ll think about it.”

He didn’t mean it, though; Tony hated watching Peter dance for others. Hated seeing them touching him, even when it was just for the briefest of moments to tuck a bill into his clothing. He didn’t want to subject himself to that annoyance any more than necessary. Of course, he didn’t want Peter dancing, at all.

The boy kissed him, once more, and then got up and left the room, and Tony listened for a moment until he heard the faint noise of the outer door to the apartment closing as well.

Tony sighed, and stretched under the blankets, feeling a little sore in all the best places.

“FRIDAY? Look up May and Ben Parker’s finances, will you? I want to know what kind of loan they took out on their place to pay Peter’s tuition, and who owns the paperwork. Pay it off with one of the unnamed accounts.”

_“And put the note in your name?”_

“No. Put it in Ben and May Parker’s name. Set it up so they can keep paying on the loan without knowing anything is different, but channel the money into a fund with a high interest return and start investing it in some of the high yield corporations.”

_“And shield them from the IRS?”_

“Pay the taxes, automatically. We want to make things easy for them – without anyone knowing what we’re doing – but we don’t want them dodging taxes.”

_“I’ll take care of it.”_

“I know.”

He stretched, again, and sighed.

His arms already felt empty. Wednesday was so far away.


	20. 20

“How’s the hand?”

“It’s coming around.” He proved it by picking up his glass and taking a sip of his drink with the injured hand. “Driving is a bitch, though.”

“You’re an _officer_ , don’t you have a driver?”

Rhodey shrugged.

“For _work_ , yes. I don’t need one on my personal time.”

“Apparently you do, now.”

“What are you doing this weekend? I could use a distraction.”

“I have plans.”

“Yeah? What are you doing?”

“Peter and I are going to the beach.”

“Why do you look annoyed about that?”

“I’m not. I don’t see enough of him so I suppose I should be grateful to get to spend any time with him at all – much less a whole _day_.”

His friend shook his head; he’d heard plenty from Tony on the subject of Peter Parker.

The boy (and he was _definitely_ a boy, as far as Rhodey was concerned) worked ridiculously hard between school and his job, and while Tony Stark worked a lot of hours, himself, he seemed to expect everyone to be available to him when he was done working.

That wasn't how things were working out with Tony and Peter, much to Tony’s annoyance.

From what he’d been told – repeatedly – Tony didn’t like Peter working so hard (although Rhodey was sure that the possessive side of the billionaire didn’t like that Peter was a stripper and other people saw and touched a lot of skin when Peter was working) and definitely didn’t like that Peter’s job and school kept him away from the billionaire’s own attentions – and his bed.

“Not everyone can drop whatever they’re doing and come indulge you, Tony.”

Stark scowled.

“I know that. But he isn’t even trying.”

“He works full time hours and you and I both know how insane his course load is. If that isn’t the definition of _trying,_ I don’t know what is.”

“He isn’t trying to make time for _me_ ,” Tony said, moodily. “He’s tired when he gets off work and usually just wants to eat toast and go to sleep. In his _own_ house, usually, unless it’s Friday or Saturday. Then I get to spend time with him, but he looks so worn out, I make him eat and take him to bed – and sometimes, all I do is hold him until he goes to sleep.”

“The nerve of him to be too tired to entertain you.”

His friend’s sarcasm wasn't helping his dark mood.

“I don’t need him to entertain me, Rhodey. But I’ve offered him money. I’ve offered him a better job. I told him that he could move in with me and _I’d_ take care of him, so he didn’t need to work at all and could focus all his time and energy on school.”

And on _Tony_ , of course – although that had gone unsaid.

“And…?”

“And he says that he doesn’t want to be my sugar baby. He wants to make it on his own.”

“Wow.”

Tony realized that Rhodey was truly amazed – but his interjection was laced with admiration for Peter’s decision, and not with the incredulity that Tony felt every time Peter turned down any offer of financial assistance. The boy was willing to let him take him out to eat – although sometimes _he_ insisted on paying, if he’d had a particularly good night at work and had a little extra money in his pocket – but he was adamant that Tony shouldn’t be the provider that he wanted to be for Peter.

“No. Not _wow_. More like shit.”

“If you want a sugar baby, then go get one, Tony,” his friend said, shrugging. “There a probably a half a hundred people who would sign up on the spot – and a million more that would once they had a chance to realize it was you asking.”

“But none of them would be _Peter_.”

The other man frowned as realization dawned on him.

“Wait… you’re really _into_ him, aren’t you?”

“What? _No_.”

“No?”

“I’ve known the guy a couple of months, now. It isn’t even close to enough time to start talking about love…”

“I didn’t say anything about _love_ ,” Rhodey pointed out. “The kid is _eighteen_ , Tony.”

“I know.”

“And you don’t care…”

“Of course I don’t _care_ , Rhodey,” Tony told him. “When have I _ever_ cared about being unconventional? I’m not in love with Peter, though. I just want to help him succeed.”

“And…?”

“And _nothing_.”

And fuck the hell out of him whenever he wanted, instead of whenever it worked out for Peter’s schedule. He didn’t say that, though – and from the look on his friend’s face, he didn’t _need_ to say it.

“You can’t fall for an eighteen-year-old, Tony.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re too old for him – or he’s too young for you, or something. He’ll wear you down to nothing in less than a year.”

“You aren’t _listening_ ,” the billionaire said. “I’m not the one wearing myself out; _Peter_ is. What do I do to make him see reason?”

“That’s not how an equal relationship works. You don’t make him agree with you – you _compromise_.”

“Compromise isn’t my strong suit.”

“So maybe you need to find a different boyfriend, then,” Rhodey suggested. “Before you’re both miserable.”

Tony scowled.

“Your advice sucks.”

His friend simply shrugged.

“I’ve heard that, before, on occasion.”

><><><><>

“You look annoyed,” Peter said as they walked from the car to the elevator after Tony picked him up from work.

“I’m fine. It was just a long day, is all.” They walked into the apartment, and Tony tossed his jacket on the back of the couch, while Peter’s backpack went to the coffee table. “Want some toast?”

“No, thanks. Just _you_.”

The annoyance the older man had been feeling all day faded with those simple words and he took Peter’s hand, pulling him down onto the sofa and putting his arms around him to hold him. He’d already asked him about his day – and his _week_ – while he’d driven him to the apartment, so he simply held him for a long moment, wallowing in the sensation of having the boy in his arms. Even better, with no school the next day, he didn’t have to worry about how late they stayed up – which meant a marathon of loving, if Peter was in the mood.

When he felt Peter’s hand slide down to his lap and begin to lightly caress him through his pants, he made an approving noise at the proof that the boy was almost certainly in the mood.

“That feels good…” he murmured in his young lover’s ear, shifting to give him more space, and to slide his own hand up and under Peter’s shirt, massaging his belly and chest. “Suck me, Peter.”

His response was in the affirmative, but Peter didn’t hurry to obey.

Instead, he continued to caress the ever-expanding bulge under his hand until Tony was filling his palm and then more. He’d learned from Tony how good anticipation could feel, and was willing to share that lesson with the older man. Tony groaned when the boy finally opened his pants and pulled his cock out, and he leaned back and closed his eyes when Peter bent his head and began playing with him, his mouth much more talented, now, than it had been, initially, but still delightfully delicate of a touch.

Tony sifted his fingers through Peter’s hair as the boy went down on him, and he pushed Peter’s head down, occasionally, allowing his cock to slide down Peter’s throat, enjoying the way his muscles contracted around the head as he stifled his gag reflex and deep throated him.

He almost reluctantly pulled the boy’s head back, still using that handful of hair and smiled when Peter looked up at him, Tony’s cock sliding slowly and somewhat obscenely out of his mouth with a wet pop.

“Feel better?” Peter asked him, his hand stroking Tony, now, as he moved up for a kiss.

“You always make me feel better, honey,” the billionaire told him, sincerely.

He just wanted more of Peter’s time.

The young man pulled off his shirt, and then did the same for Tony. Peter took the lead, now, and finished undressing the older man and then himself, clothing falling to the floor. He straddled Tony’s lap, not bothering to move into the bedroom. He kissed him, again, hips moving forward to brush the head of his own eager cock against Tony’s belly, which also caught Tony’s cock against Peter’s smoother skin and provided tantalizing friction that left smears of precum on Peter’s belly.

Tony made another approving noise, and his hands strayed to the swell of Peter’s ass, big hands palming his cheeks and spreading them so he could slide a finger along his crack. Now it was Peter who approved, and he broke loose only long enough to reach for the lube and hand it to Tony, who kissed him, again, as he opened it.

“Do you want me here on the couch?”

“Yes. And then in the bedroom – or in the shower, or wherever else you want to fuck me,” came the reply.

Tony chuckled, and slid his now lube-slick fingers into the boy’s tight rear, feeling his cock jump in response to Peter’s willingness.

“That can be arranged.”


	21. 21

“What did you do today?” Peter asked, much later.

They were now sprawled in Tony’s bed, and both of them were delightfully satiated. Sex on the couch had been followed by a much slower and less frantic coupling that had started in the shower and culminated in bed, where the billionaire had rolled Peter onto his belly and had pinned his slighter frame under him while he drove into him, slowly at first and then harder and more forcefully as he built to his climax.

“Worked on some new tech,” Tony told him, sliding his fingers, idly, along Peter’s side. “And checked on Rhodey.”

“How’s his hand?”

“He said it’s doing better. It _looks_ better.”

“That’s good.” Peter hadn’t seen Rhodey since the first night he’d met the other man and Tony in the library, but he was kept apprised of what was going on with him – and some of the other Avengers, too. Mostly in situations like this, pillow talk and when they were cuddling on the sofa. “Did they figure out what happened?”

“It’s the _military_ , Peter,” Tony told him with good-natured contempt. “They have training accidents and incidents all the time. Rhodey knows that. He’s used to it.”

“Oh.”

Peter shifted, cuddling closer to Tony’s warm body and felt the older man put his arms around him in response. The blankets and Tony were more than enough to keep him from becoming chilled – despite the fact that his hair was damp from their earlier shower and his skin was slick with drying sweat.

“He wanted me to hang out with him this weekend, as a distraction,” Tony added, letting Peter go just long enough to turn off the light before holding him once more.

“What did you tell him?” Peter asked, wondering if it was Tony’s gentle way of breaking their own plans.

“That I have a better distraction planned, and _we’re_ going to the beach.”

Peter smiled at that, and kissed Tony’s chest.

“You _could_ still spend time with him,” he pointed out, starting to fall asleep. “When I go to work.”

“Or you could call in sick so we can make a full day of it.”

“We’re short handed, right now,” Peter reminded him. “Which is bad for the _Ralto_ , but good for me.”

Tony already knew that two of the dancers were sick ( _really_ sick and not faking it to spend time away from the place) and that Peter was picking up extra hours of dancing. It made for more tips for the boy and a little extra money in his pocket – but he was even more tired when he was done, and even his schoolwork was suffering because of it.

“They wouldn’t miss you for one night,” Tony said, reasonably. “Would they?”

“I’d miss the money, Tony. We’ve talked about this.”

“I know.” He sighed, annoyed, now, and a little frustrated. Peter didn’t _need_ money. He had _Tony_ , who had a shit-ton of the stuff to blow on him, and anything that he wanted or needed. All he had to do was ask. Really, he didn’t even need to ask. If Peter gave the okay, Tony would simply buy him anything and everything that he thought the boy might ever want, or need. Not to mention the fact that more dancing meant more men (and women, but mainly _men_ ) getting a chance to gawk at Peter’s perfect body. “I don’t like them looking at you – and _touching_ you.” His hand slid along Peter’s hip. “You’re _mine_.”

Peter shivered at the touch, automatically, but caught Tony’s hand, stilling it.

“Are you being possessive or jealous?” he asked, curiously.

He was well aware of Tony’s possessive side; he liked it when it came to their loving. The older man enjoyed dominating their sex, and Peter was willing, because he enjoyed it that way, too. He loved Tony telling him what to do. Taking charge and being in command of things. It was primal and exciting.

As long as it didn’t carry over into their regular lives, where Peter was very much independent, and intended to stay that way.

Tony huffed, slightly.

_He_ was well aware that Peter had a mind of his own and wasn't Tony’s to order around – as much as he wanted to.

“Both, I guess. I’ve seen the way they look at you when you’re dancing.”

Not very often, because he didn’t like to watch how Peter drove others as crazy as he did him.

“You don’t have any reason to be jealous, Tony.” The hand stroked his own where it rested on Peter’s hip. “They don’t do anything for me. Not like _you_ do.”

“I don’t do _anything_ for you,” Tony said, petulantly. “You won’t _let_ me.”

Now the sigh in the dark was Peter’s. This conversation wasn't their first of that topic, after all.

“You do a _lot_. You pick me up, you pamper me when I need it, and you make me feel so good. I wish you could see that.”

“ _Anyone_ could do all those things, Peter. I want to _spoil_ you. To buy you everything you want. To see you in silk and jewels, and expensive clothes. I don’t want you to be so tired all the time, or too busy to spend time with me aside from the occasional weekend day, or stolen hours in the afternoon.”

“I know. It’ll be different this summer, though. When school’s out-“

“You’ll still be _working_ , though,” Tony interrupted, frustrated, now. “Or you’ll go back to Iowa and I won’t see you at all until next school year. That isn’t fair.”

“Tony…”

The billionaire rolled over, away from Peter. He was upset, now, at the thought of Peter leaving him. Was upset at the fact that anyone could walk in off the street and see Peter dancing for them, and was upset that the one thing that he wanted so desperately in his life was the one thing that kept telling him he couldn’t have him. Or at least, he couldn’t have him as much as he wanted him.

“I don’t _care_ ,” he said. “Do whatever you want. You will anyway. Nothing I say matters, to you. You don’t want my help. You’re just using me for sex.”

“It isn’t like that.”

But maybe it _was_?

“Go to sleep, Peter.”

The boy didn’t, though. He was upset, too, now, and feeling guilty and angry and frustrated, as well.

“You knew what I did for a living when you met me,” he reminded the older man. “You even came looking for me there, remember?”

Tony pointedly pulled the pillow from under his head and put it on top of his head, instead, an age old indicator that he wasn't listening – although he was very much aware of the tension in the lean, naked body that was still next to him.

There was another sigh that he heard in the dark, despite the pillow on his face, and then there was movement behind him. Peter’s lips brushed lightly against his shoulder, and then Tony felt the boy getting out of the bed and tucking the blankets in the space that he’d vacated. There was a rustling as he picked his way across the room and opened the door, closing it behind him. The older man waited, listening for his return, but after a long wait, he finally sat up.

“FRIDAY? Where is he?”

“ _He’s gone,”_ came the reply. “ _He got dressed, picked up his backpack and left.”_


	22. 23

_“I thought you were going to the beach…?”_

“Change of plans. Are you coming by, or what?”

_“Sure. I’ll bring lunch.”_

“Nothing spicy. I’m not in the mood.”

_“Fine. I’ll be there at noon.”_

Tony ended the call and looked around his apartment. His very _empty_ apartment. And then down at his phone, which was on the island in the kitchen. He’d sent Peter a text, but hadn’t received any reply. And then, just in case the dinosaur of the phone the boy used ate his message without sending it, he’d sent a couple more.

All of them were being ignored.

He’d woken up feeling like shit. His sleep had been restless at best – and that was when he’d been able to sleep at all. He hadn’t meant for Peter to leave (and honestly, hadn’t really _expected_ the boy to even consider it – although looking back, he should have known better). He didn’t know what he’d expected to have happen. Only that he’d somehow get his way.

That was how things were supposed to work when it came to what he wanted, after all.

But Peter _had_ left, and there had been a definite sense of finality to the quiet of the apartment when he’d walked out of his bedroom the next morning. Tony sighed and went to take a shower, although he was loathe to wash away the last of Peter’s scent from his body, feeling some kind of pending finality in that action, too.

><>><><><>

“So he just _left_?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t go after him?”

“I didn’t know he was _leaving_ ,” Tony pointed out, annoyed. “For all I knew, he was going to the bathroom or something.”

“After you tried to guilt trip him into quitting his job and losing all sense of independence?”

They were sitting at the island of Tony’s kitchen, and Rhodey had just heard the story behind why Tony had his afternoon suddenly free. And had shaken his head in disbelief.

“I didn’t try to _guilt trip_ him…” the billionaire said. “Besides, even if I _did_ , it didn’t work, now, did it? He wouldn’t even budge.”

“What did he say?”

“He said that I knew what he did for a living.”

“And he’s _right_. You did.”

“That isn’t the point. He dances because he needs the _money_. I have money and would give it to him. He doesn’t _need_ to dance.”

“He just needs to sell himself to you?”

“No.”

_Yes?_

“But you want him to stop dancing so he can spend all his time with you. Sure sounds like you want a play toy and not a boyfriend.”

“He’s too young to be my boyfriend, Rhodey.” Tony took a drink of the alcohol that he’d poured, and looked at the empty glass, moodily. “And now it’s moot, anyway. He’s gone.”

“Did he leave a note?”

“No.”

“Did you try to call him?”

“Yes. He didn’t answer – and hasn’t returned my messages. I screwed up.”

“No shit.”

Stark scowled.

“You’re supposed to be giving me advice, not being a dick about it all.”

“I _gave_ you advice. You ignored it.”

“ _Let him do whatever he wants and be happy about it_? How is that advice?”

“It beats _be an asshole and pout whenever he tries to have a mind of his own_.”

“I’m not trying to stifle his _mind_ , Rhodey,” Tony snapped. “His _mind_ is amazing. His _body_ is amazing. But he doesn’t understand that he works too hard, and doesn’t take care of himself – and I can take care of him. I was _trying_ to help him.”

“You can’t control everything – and everyone – Tony. I know you _want_ to, but some people need to make it on their own. It gives them a feeling of accomplishment. Peter strikes me as being that kind of guy.”

Stark already knew that he was. But he really thought that he could change that. Had thought the lure of a chance to relax instead of working so hard would have been enough to make Peter see his side of things. Would have seen that he didn’t have to be a stripper. Could let Tony take care of his every need and whim.

Instead, the dumb kid had just taken what he wanted and then left when Tony asked for anything in return. He felt a surge of annoyance – more at himself for being so stupid than at Peter for not taking him up on it – and sighed.

“Maybe it’s for the best.”

“Of _course_ it is. You need someone older. Stable. Someone who isn’t juggling a million balls in the air, already, and has the time and the patience to put up with _your_ shit, too.”

“I don’t _need_ anyone,” the billionaire told him, grumpily. He was well aware that that was a lie, but was alternating between being angry and feeling sorry for himself and he didn’t want to be told what to do – or what he needed. “I have Bubba.”

Rhodey glanced at the goldfish, who was swimming lazily in his little bowl on the island.

“Why don’t we go find something to do?” he suggested, knowing that his friend definitely needed a distraction.

“Fine.”

><><><><><><

_“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”_

Peter shook his head.

“Nothing. I just wanted to check in you guys. See how you’re doing.”

The little screen on his phone held his aunt’s image, and even though it was a dinosaur as Tony had pointed out more than once (usually when he was trying to convince Peter to let him give him a new one) he could see that she wasn't convinced.

_“We’re fine. Spring is my favorite time of year; you know that.”_

“Yeah.”

_“How’s school?”_

“It’s good. We had a lab, last week, and killed it.”

_“Killed it in a good way?”_

He smiled.

“Yes.”

_“I thought you were going to the beach today?”_

May knew his schedule fairly well – mainly because he called and checked in with her, regularly. It made the harem – as Tony called them – tease him about being a momma’s boy (or an aunt’s boy in his case) but he didn’t mind.

“I was…”

_“But…?”_

“Tony’s mad at me.”

May didn’t know his Tony was really _Tony Stark_ , but she knew that Peter had been seeing someone – finally – and that he’d looked pretty happy, lately. Stressed, of course; he was _always_ stressed, but content and happy, as well.

_“Why?”_

“He doesn’t like me being a dancer.”

_“For moral reasons?”_

The boy shook his head, and he couldn’t help the smirk that was suddenly creasing his face. Tony Stark had no high ground when it came to morals, now did he? Which wasn't completely fair, Peter knew. The older man was amazing and kind to Peter. And had been from the beginning.

“No. He’s jealous. I’m not sure if it’s that I spend all my time working – which means I spend less time with him – or if he doesn’t like sharing me with the people in the audience.”

_“Or a combination of both,”_ May said.

“Maybe. There’s nothing I can do about that, though. Dancing is good money, and right now I need that.”

_“Money isn’t everything.”_

“I know.”

But it was a _lot_ of things, and it was being sent home as fast as he could make it.

_“So what happened?”_

Now that she had him talking, she wasn't going to give him the chance to clam up on her.

“He complained because I didn’t want to call in so we could spend time together. Said that I don’t make time for him.”

_“Do you?”_

“As much as I can. I’m pretty busy, May. I told him he could come to work.”

_“Where he can watch you dance for everyone else?”_ she chided, gently.

“I know. But I don’t know what else to do. I have to work, and he knows it – but _he’s_ independently wealthy, so he can hang out around home all the time and thinks I should just hang out with him, like I don’t have things to do, already.”

_“What are you going to do?”_

“Nothing. I can’t think of a solution to this one,” Peter admitted.

_“Well, maybe you two just need a little time apart,”_ she said _. “Hopefully one of you can come to a resolution that you both can live with.”_

Aware that he was just dumping all of his problems onto her shoulders when she had plenty of her own, he smiled.

“We’ll figure it out, May.”

They were pretty smart, after all. But not every problem had a fix, Peter knew.


	23. 23

Tony was vaguely aware when someone came over and sat across from him, but finished the calculations that he was working on before he finally looked up.

Natasha Romanoff was sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in her hands – although she was watching him. When she didn’t say anything, he frowned.

“What?”

“Your axe murderer is absolutely delicious.”

“What? _Peter_?”

That was the last thing he’d expected to hear.

“How many other axe murderers do you know?”

“He isn’t an axe murderer,” Tony said. “And what are you talking about?”

He hadn’t seen Peter in almost a month, now, and rather than getting over the boy, he missed him more than ever. Missed everything about him. From helping him with a tricky assignment, or watching him work on his schoolwork, to talking to him over meals and laughing with him. And, of course, having him in his bed, holding him after a round of hot and heavy loving.

“We went to see him dance.”

“Who?”

“Me and Pepper,” Romanoff replied, taking a sip of her coffee. “I invited the others, but Steve refused, and Clint’s wife wouldn’t let him. So it was just the two of us.”

“You saw him?”

“Am I speaking Dutch? Yes. I saw him.”

“How did he look?”

“I just told you; delicious. He’s a little scrawny for my tastes, but his face is adorable, and those abs? Jesus. Pepper put her number on the hundred-dollar bill that she tucked into his thong. I have to admit, I was tempted to do the same.”

“He didn’t recognize you?”

“Nope. It was poorly lit, and I’m a master of disguise.”

Good point.

“What happened with Pepper?” He was almost afraid to ask, but he had to know. “Did he call her?”

“Not that I know of…” she paused, her expression sympathetic, as if she knew what was going on inside him. And she probably did. “He hasn’t called you?”

“No.”

“Have you tried calling him?”

“No.”

He started to. A million times. But his pride, or his stubbornness, or whatever it was, always grabbed him like a dog with a bone and shook him before he could. But he thought about him. All the time. And ached for him. And wondered if he was taking care of himself, and if he missed Tony as much as Tony missed him.

“Why not?”

“Because he doesn’t want the same things I do.”

“You seem pretty sure of that.”

“I am.”

“Are you? Because I’ve been watching you, lately, and you don’t look like you’re so certain.”

Stark scowled; he hated the fact that she could read him so easily.

“I’m sure.”

But he knew that he wasn't.

><><><><>

The Ralto looked exactly the same.

Tony hadn’t been there in a couple of months, but nothing had changed. Same stage. Same lights. Same bouncers – although Tony didn’t recognize the woman who walked him to the small table or the one that brought him a drink a few minutes later.

“Is Peter dancing tonight?” he asked her as he paid for his drink.

“Peter?” she gave him an apologetic smile and shook her head. “No. He’s not working, tonight.”

“What?”

Tony was sure that he would be. It was Friday, after all, and one of the busiest times for the little club. The best night of the week to make the best tips. Which had been the whole point of him coming. To see him. And maybe talk to him, if he didn’t have one of the bouncers throw him out on sight.

“I haven’t seen him in a couple of days, now. I think he’s sick, or something.”

“Oh.”

Tony felt a surge of concern. He had to be really sick if he was actually missing work. He’d probably worn himself out, and had succumbed to something dreadful. Who was taking care of him? Would his harem? They were all busy young women, too, Tony knew, and for all the billionaire knew, the boy was in his little twin bed, wasting away to nothing for lack of someone to nurse him through his illness.

“We have a replacement guy, though,” she told him, helpfully. “He’s cute.”

“Thanks.”

The billionaire didn’t bother to stay, though. There was only one dancer that he was even interested in. He left his drink untouched on the table and headed for the door.

>><><><>

It was Jana who answered the knock on the door. She looked surprised to see him, and Tony wondered what Peter had told them about their breakup.

“Mr. Stark. Hello.”

He was glad it wasn't Molly, who was a bit more of a fan.

“Hey, Jana. I’m looking for Peter. I went to his work, but they said he was sick…?”

“No. Peter’s fine. At least, he was when I saw him a few days ago. His uncle hurt himself, though, and Peter went home to help on the farm – or to make sure everything was alright.”

Relief went through him, and he nodded. Peter was alright. Of course, he might not be, _emotionally_ , but visions of him being on his deathbed vanished from Tony’s imagination, now.

“How’s his uncle?”

“I haven’t heard. Sorry. He said he’d call and let us know, but he hasn’t, yet.”

Molly had come to the door, to see who it was – and had stayed once she saw that Tony was there.

“You know it must be serious, though,” she said. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have spent the airfare to get there. Or the lost time from work.”

“He was going to work through Spring Break, next week,” Jana agreed. “But now he might not be home to…”

Tony nodded.

“Thank you.”

“Stay for dinner, Mr. Stark?” Molly asked, hopefully.

“Can’t, sorry. I’ve got a plane to catch.”

He said a polite goodbye and headed for his car.

FRIDAY was networked into his car’s systems, so there wasn't any pause when he closed the door.

_“Call the airfield and get the jet ready?”_

“Yeah. Find out where in Iowa Peter’s from and tell the pilot that’s where we’re going.”

_“Will do.”_

“Call Rhodey.”

A moment later the call went through.

“ _Tony_?”

“Hey. I’m going out of town. I need you to cover for me if the Avengers need any heavy firepower.”

_“Where are you going?”_

“Iowa.”

_“Seriously?”_

“Yeah.”

_“Why? Did you lose a bet?”_

“Something like that. I also need you to feed Bubba while I’m gone. FRIDAY can let you in.”

_“I’m not your secretary, Tony…”_ Rhodes grumbled.

“Are you going to feed him, or do I have to take him with me?”

_“No. I’ll feed him. Don’t be such a shit.”_

“Thank you.”

_“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”_

“No.”

_“Whatever. Have a safe flight.”_

“Yeah.”

He didn’t _have_ to go, of course, and really, Peter probably wouldn’t appreciate him being there. But if the boy needed him, Tony wanted to be where he could help. Or support Peter, if something happened. Not because he _loved_ him, he added, quickly, to the monologue in his mind, but because he was Peter’s friend, if nothing else. Friends supported friends.

The billionaire started the car and headed for home to pack some things.


	24. 24

The sun was well up in the sky over a sea of rich dirt with tiny green sprouts in tidy neat rows sticking out of it when the rental car drove down the dirt road toward a neat group of buildings in the center of those fields. Tony had been in Iowa for several hours, but hadn’t wanted to rush out to the farm in the middle of the night, so he’d spent the night sleeping on the tarmac of the airport in his luxurious private jet – which was a step up from the offerings of the tiny town that was settled on the edge of the small airfield.

When he woke, he showered, shaved and dressed before going to find the airfield’s rental place and then something to eat. The drive to the farm from the airfield took longer than the flight to Iowa from New York, but Tony didn’t mind. He liked driving, and it gave him a chance to look at the surrounding countryside – which was flat and comprised of a lot of farms with tractors and pickups everywhere he looked.

The GPS in the car (not FRIDAY, unfortunately) guided him down the last main road, and he pulled to a stop in front of a large farmhouse that could have come out of a Norman Rockwell painting. There were several other buildings; a barn, a couple of sheds and a huge building that looked like a garage of some sort – although Tony couldn’t see what was parked inside it when he got out of the car and headed for the front porch.

He knocked on the door, and immediately heard the sound of a dog barking – and then another. A woman’s voice saying something, and then the much deeper reply from a man, and the sound of the dogs was suddenly right behind the door – which opened, revealing a very young boy, who looked up at him, curiously.

Tony knew Peter had a cousin; they’d had a lot of conversations about his home, after all, and the people who lived there, and the billionaire recognized the boy, immediately, from a photo Peter had shown him.

“Hi.”

The dogs weren’t quite so social, and the little boy was swarmed over by three large, slightly suspicious canines, all of which weighed more than the kid did. Tony smiled, slightly uncomfortable with the boy, but trying to hide it.

“Hello. You must be _Richard_.”

The boy’s brown eyes lit up, cheerfully.

“How did you know _that_?”

“Peter told me all about you.”

“Really?”

He might have said more, but a woman’s voice spoke up, then.

“Richard? Who’s-“ the woman stopped short as she saw Tony at the door, and she looked surprised. Tony could see in her expressive eyes that she recognized him, immediately, and wondered what Peter had told his aunt about them. And him. “Mr. Stark…”

“ _Tony_ , please. You’re Peter’s aunt May.”

She nodded, smiling, as she got over her shock and took the hand that he offered – shushing one of the dogs when it growled, softly, at the touch.

“I _am_. Is everything alright?”

“I was wondering the _same thing_ ,” Tony told her, truthfully. “I was looking for Peter and the harem told me that he had a family emergency and had come home. So I thought I’d see if there was anything I could do.”

“The _harem_?” she asked, confused for just a moment, before she chuckled. “Is that what you call his roommates? That’s hilarious – although he tells me there’s nothing going on between any of them.”

“That’s my understanding, as well.”

May Parker was a beautiful woman, Tony decided, as she took her hand back and waved the dogs aside to gesture for him to come into the house. She pushed her son forward and led him down the hall to a sunny living room. There was a TV, a couple of sofas and recliners and a huge fireplace that was devoid of anything but a couple of logs that were almost certainly for decorations. In one of the recliners was a man that Tony recognized from yet another picture.

“Ben, this is Tony Stark,” May said. “He’s looking for Peter.”

The other man nodded, smiling, and automatically offered Tony his right hand – which was encased in a bright cast from the hand up to just before the elbow. He scowled, and then rolled his eyes and switched to the left.

“Sorry about that. Nice to meet you, Tony. How do you know Peter?”

“I met him in the library at his school,” Tony replied, truthfully. “He’s told me a lot about you and his family.”

“Good things, I hope.”

Tony smiled.

“Only the best things.”

“Even about me?” the boy asked, excitedly.

“ _Especially_ you,” Tony assured him.

“You’re Ironman, right?”

“Yup.”

“You saved the world from aliens. I played the video game.”

“I had _some_ help,” Tony admitted, smiling, slightly. They seemed like nice people, really, and intelligent. “Is Peter here? I heard he had returned home, abruptly, and I admit I was worried.”

May nodded, sitting on the arm of Ben’s recliner.

“He’s out in the barn. Came rushing home when he heard Ben injured himself the other day. I told him it was fine, but he worries about us.”

“Then, when we got him here, he looked like warmed up dog food,” Ben added. “So I told him that I was fine, but mentioned it would be nice if he stuck around since Spring break is next week.”

“It’ll give him a chance to rest up,” May added, looking a little worried. “He looks _tired_.”

“Because he works too much,” Ben said, shaking his head. “Trying to work full time and handle school – all to make sure we get paid back for helping him with his tuition last year.”

“That’s what he told me,” Tony agreed. “And I _agree_ ; he works too hard. Unfortunately, he doesn’t listen to me.”

“He’s always been pretty stubborn,” Ben told Tony with a fond smile. He shrugged. “No worries, though. He’s home, now, and we’ll make sure he takes it easy.” He looked at the boy, who had dropped to the floor and was watching the adults while leaning against one of the dogs. “Richard? Take Tony to the barn.”

“Okay.”

“We’ve had breakfast hours ago,” May said. “But if you’re hungry I can make you something to tide you over until lunch.”

“I’m starving,” he admitted.

“Not surprising. Tell Peter to show you around, if you’d like, and then come back and I’ll feed you.”

“You’ll be staying the night?” Ben asked. “There aren’t any hotels for miles.”

“If you have room.”

Wow. They didn’t even _know_ him, but they were definitely generous people. He wondered if it was an Iowa thing, or if it was a Parker thing.

“We have a guest room,” Ben assured him. “I’ll make sure it’s habitable.”

Tony found his hand being grabbed by an excited 6-year old, and was tugged on.

“Come on, Tony,” the boy told him. “I’ll show you the barn!”

He allowed himself to be led from the living room, through another wide open room that held a large table that would easily hold twelve, and the through a quaint kitchen, complete with stainless steel appliances and not the manual pump at the kitchen sink that Tony almost expected to see. Then it was out a door onto a back porch, where they stopped. Richard pointed.

“That’s the barn, there,” he said with all the authority of a six year old showing off his home. “That’s the chicken coop, and that’s the shed and that’s the workroom.”

“What about that?” he asked, indulgently, pointing at the large building he’d noticed earlier, that was closed up. “What do you keep in there?”

“The combines,” Richard told him. He smiled, proudly. “We have _three_.”

Tony didn’t understand why that was such a big deal – and he wasn't sure what a combine was, in the first place – but he made an approving noise in response.

“Do you have _animals_ in the barn?” he asked as he was led off the porch – followed by the small pack of dogs. “Or is it just for show?”

“Two horses, two cows and a goat – and Darcie just had a _baby_.”

“Wow…”

The barn door was open, and the boy and Tony walked into the large building, with Tony looking around, curiously. He hadn’t been in a barn since he was very young – taking riding lessons as a boy not much older than his guide – but this one seemed to be well-kept. Stalls and open storage rooms lined either side of a cement walkway. Halfway down the aisle there was a wheelbarrow filled with straw, and Tony saw Peter by an open stall, holding a pitchfork, but looking into the stall.

“ _Peter_!” Richard yelled, too excited to stand still. He ran over to his cousin. “Tony Stark is here!”


	25. 25

Peter looked up at his name, smiling automatically, and even in the somewhat dim light of the barn, Tony saw the surprise in the younger man’s face when he realized what had been said – and who was following the little boy.

“Tony… what…? Is everything alright?”

“Yes.” He hesitated, uncertainly, and well aware of the little boy standing between them looking up at them and watching. “I heard you came home for an emergency, and was worried.”

“Ben broke his hand.”

“ _Darcie_ broke it,” Richard added, helpfully, pointing in the stall. “She kicked him when she was having the baby. Not on purpose, though.”

Tony followed the motion, automatically, and saw a large gray mare looking at him suspiciously from the far side of the stall. Not surprisingly, considering there was a very tiny head poking out from behind her rump, a little brown one with big brown eyes that were watching him, as well.

“When May called, she said it wasn't serious,” Peter told Tony. “But I had to make sure, so I came out. And then let them talk me into staying through Spring break.”

“That’s what they just told me,” the billionaire confirmed.

“Tony’s staying the night,” Richard said, excitedly.

Peter frowned, looking at the older man.

“Everything is alright?”

“I was worried about you.”

“You could have called.”

“You don’t answer.”

Oh, yeah. Good point.

“I didn’t want to hear you complaining about how much I ignore you…”

The two of them were looking at each other, hungrily, both searching the others’ face for any sign of weariness, or any other indication that the other wasn't happy to see him. Peter thought Tony looked as handsome as ever – if not sporting a few worry lines that he couldn’t remember seeing before – and Tony thought Peter was just as beautiful, if not a little thinner, and tired. He started to raise his hand.

“I’m-“

“Mom says you’re supposed to show Tony the farm while she makes him something to eat,” Richard said, unaware of the tension between the two.

Peter looked almost startled, and Tony gave him a wry look.

“Show me the farm?”

“Yeah.” He looked at his cousin. “Let’s see if Darcie is willing to let us get a look at her baby, shall we?”

The boy’s face lit up.

“Yeah.”

Without being told, Richard took the pitchfork from Peter, and put it across the wheelbarrow. Then he moved the whole thing out of the way while Peter pulled a halter from the front of the stall and crooned to the mare as he walked over to her and the foal. She held still, nuzzling his cheek while he put the halter on her and went willingly when he led her out of the stall a moment later. The baby followed, and Peter looked back at it as they walked toward the far exit, while Richard moved to stand beside Tony who was making sure to stay far enough away to avoid being kicked – just in case.

“She’s a beauty,” the boy said, knowledgably. “What do you think, Mr. Stark?”

“I think _you_ can call me, Tony, too.” He smiled, though, and made a show of looking the foal over – although it had been a long time since he’d been near a horse (horsepower didn’t count) and never one so young. “I think she’s great.”

“Mom said she can be mine,” he was told. “But I have to take care of her.”

“What are you going to name her?” Tony asked him, as they walked out of the barn, too, and Peter smirked, amused that Tony was forced to engage in conversation with his six-year-old cousin.

“He wants to call her _Brownie_ ,” Peter said, before Richard could answer. “But May wants something a little less descriptive and a lot more interesting, so she’s making him think about it.”

“Brownie is a pretty good name,” the billionaire agreed. “But there are probably a million horses out there named Brownie. You _should_ try for something more original.”

The boy frowned up at him.

“Like what?”

“That depends on you.” They watched as Peter released the mare into a small field with another horse and a couple of cows. “She might show some characteristic that you can name her for – or just think of a girl’s name and call her that.”

“Like what?”

Tony shrugged.

“Meredith?”

The boy fell silent, thinking about it, and Peter shook his head.

“Fill up the water trough, will you?” Peter asked his cousin. “I’m going to show Tony around and we’ll meet back inside.”

“Okay.” The boy looked at Tony. “You’re _really_ Ironman?”

Stark smiled.

“I _am_ , yep.”

“Wow…”

“You can stare at him, later,” Peter promised. “Fill up the trough.”

“Okay.”

They watched as the youngster walked toward a spool by the barn and Peter turned and walked the opposite direction. Tony followed, matching his pace, waiting to find out if the younger man was annoyed with him and had just been hiding it because his cousin was there.

“There isn’t much to see,” Peter finally said. “Cornfields all around, buildings in the middle. A couple of cows, two and a third horses, some chickens and a six-year-old farm hand.”

“It’s where you come from,” Tony replied. “I love it, already.”

Peter’s cheeks reddened, slightly.

“Who’s watching Bubba? Wait… let me guess; you sent him back to fish camp.”

“Rhodey promised to feed him for me while I’m gone.”

“You’re not missing a meeting, or something important?” Peter asked as they walked up to the huge building that Richard had told Tony held the combines and pressed a combination in on the lock on the door.

“Nope. Dropped everything and came running.” He looked around the building at the imposing machines that were housed there. “The people at your work told me that you were sick, so I was worried.”

“My roommates knew what was going on.”

“They only told me that you went home. I was _worried_ ,” he repeated. “So I thought I’d come out and check on you. In case there was anything I could do.”

“There isn’t,” Peter told him, closing the door behind them, blocking out the sounds of the farm. “There’s nothing that _I_ can do, either, really, but May and Ben want me to stay for a visit.”

“Because you look _tired_ ,” Tony said, and now he did reach his hand up to brush his fingers against Peter’s cheek. “They told me that they think you’re working too hard.”

“I’m not. Tell me you didn’t come all this way to start up right where we left off…?”

He sounded exasperated, and Tony was sure that May hadn’t been shy about telling him he needed to work less, too.

“I don’t want to argue, honey,” the older man said. “I want to hold you, though… please?”

For just a moment – one terrible, endless moment – Tony thought he was going to refuse. Peter _did_ hesitate, but then he nodded, and stepped forward, into the older man’s embrace.

Tony put his arms around him, and tucked Peter’s head under his chin.

“I’m sorry I was such an asshole.”

“So am I,” Peter said, bringing his arms around Tony. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls.”

They were silent for a long time, simply soaking up the presence of the other. Tony looked up at the large machine they were standing next to.

“What is this thing?”

Richard had mentioned combines, but he didn’t say what it did, and it annoyed Tony that the six-year-old must have assumed that he knew.

“A combine,” Peter answered, looking as well, but not moving his cheek from Tony’s chest. “It’s a mixture of reaper, thresher and winnower.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but he didn’t let on that the answer didn’t really answer anything.

“Does every corn ranch have so many?”

“ _Farm_ , Tony,” Peter told him, not bothering to hide his amusement. “Not a ranch. And to answer your question, no. _We_ have three because Ben rents them out to the neighboring farmers at harvest. It’s easier – and cheaper – for them to rent than to maintain their own.”

“Are they expensive?”

“About half a million dollars.”

“ _Each_?”

Peter nodded, and now he did pull away from Tony’s embrace, amused at the shock in the older man’s voice – and expression.

“Farming isn’t cheap.” He touched the one closest to him with a fondness that Tony couldn’t miss. “These _were_ paid off,” he added. “But now they are part of the loan that May and Ben took out to pay for my tuition.”

Which meant that they were paid off, once more, Tony thought – although he didn’t say anything to Peter about the fact that he’d long since bought out the loan that had paid for Peter’s schooling the year before. Instead he looked at the machine with interest.

“There’s probably a business model in there, somewhere,” he said, speculatively. “A farm does a harvest every year, right? And if I had a fleet of these things to rent to farmers – or automated ones that could do all the work and save the farmers the hassle – I’d probably make a killing.”

Peter shrugged.

“You can ask Ben. Depending on what they grow, they _can_ have more than one harvest a year. He knows a lot more about it than I do.”

“I might do that.” He looked at the boy in front of him, aching to kiss him, and hold him and make everything right between them. He hadn’t necessarily come to Iowa to beg Peter to come back to him, but seeing him only reminded him just how lonely he’d been since the night the boy had walked out of his apartment. He had him there, in front of him, and there was no reason to allow the opportunity to go to waste. “Why did you leave, Peter?”

He had to know if the interest had faded, or if it had been him who had driven Peter away that night.

“I was tired of arguing,” Peter admitted. “It wears me out trying to make you see my side of things when you don’t want to even _try_.”

Oh. Fair enough.

“How do we fix things?”


	26. 26

Peter hesitated, and then shrugged.

“I don’t know. _You_ want me to work less hours and I need to work those hours. You don’t like me dancing, but it’s the easiest – and _safest_ – way to make the money that I need to pay May and Ben back as soon as possible, so they don’t run into a wall because of me. And I don’t want you to give me money,” he added. “I want to be with you because I _want_ to…”

“Not because you feel you _owe_ me,” Tony said, forcing himself to not sound exasperated. “I know.”

“Right. I don’t care about those people who look at me,” he told the older man. I mean, you understand that, right? It’s just a show.”

“It’s hard,” came the reply. “I don’t like them seeing you. I want you to just be for me.”

“I was.”

_Was_. Tony didn’t like that phrasing at all.

“We can figure this out,” the older man said, reaching for Peter’s hand and taking it when he didn’t pull it back. “It’s a bump, right?”

“A pretty _big_ one…”

“Yeah.” He looked at the hand he was holding. “You’re worth it.”

Peter blushed, prettily, at that, and it made Tony smile. He didn’t allow himself to hesitate, then, and he leaned in and pressed a very careful and tender kiss against the boy’s lips, and then his cheek and then his temple. Peter didn’t pull away, either, and Tony felt his hand come up to rest against his chest.

“We should get going,” the younger man said, softly. “Before May sends Richard out to track us down.”

“Yeah.”

They didn’t move, immediately, however. Both were just content to be where they were, just then. Only when Tony’s stomach growled echoingly loud in the big room did Peter chuckle and pull back, smiling up at him.

“Come on. We’ll get you fed and then settled in the guest room.”

“Not _your_ room? I thought your family was progressive about such things?”

“They’re better than many,” he agreed. “But no. Not in my room.”

Peter wasn't ready to put himself out there, just yet – and since the question had an undertone of teasing, he recognized that Tony wasn't being pushy, or even demanding. He was just getting a feel for where things stood between them. An answer Peter couldn’t provide, really, since he was fairly uncertain, himself.

But he definitely missed him – and he was so very happy to see him, again.

><><><><>

May was waiting in the kitchen when they returned to the farmhouse. She smiled at her nephew and his guest as Peter walked over to the sink to wash his hands.

“Tony? There’s a sandwich on the table. Go eat.”

He didn’t even argue. He washed his hands and left the kitchen, and found Ben sitting at the table, as well. The older Parker gestured to the empty chair with the plate in front of it. A plate with not one, but two sandwiches, and a side of potato salad and a glass of tea.

“Peter showed you around?” Bed asked as Tony sat down and picked up a sandwich, appreciatively.

“He _did_. He showed me your combines, as well. Tell me more about how they work, and what you do with them, will you?”

May peeked into the dining room, and then grabbed her nephew’s shirt sleeve, pulling him back out the door and onto the back porch, closing it firmly behind them.

“What’s going on, Peter Parker?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, why is _Tony Stark_ in my dining room?”

“You made him a sandwich,” Peter told her. “He’s probably _never_ going to leave, now… like a lost puppy, or something.”

She frowned.

“I can do without the cheek, mister. What-“ she interrupted herself as the realization finally dawned on her. “Wait… is he _your_ Tony? The one you’ve been telling me about?”

There was no reason to deny it. Peter nodded.

“Yes.”

“You’ve been dating _Tony Stark_?”

“Yes. _Kind of_.”

“You can’t date _him_.”

“Why?”

“He’s too old for you. Jesus, he has to be in his _forties_.”

“So? I _like_ older guys, May. And _he_ likes younger men. It works out well that way. He’s more experienced than-“

She covered her ears, abruptly.

“I do _not_ want to hear whatever the rest of that sentence is going to be.”

Peter smiled.

“He’s a nice guy, May. _Really_. He treats me well.”

“You broke up.”

“Because we want different things. Not because he’s a jerk.”

“It’s _Tony Stark_.”

“I know.”

“What is he _doing_ here?”

“The people at work told him I was sick. The girls told him I came home for a family emergency. He came to see if there was anything he could do.”

“Oh.” Which was about what Stark had told her at the front dor. “That was nice of him,” she added, almost begrudgingly.

“Yes. Don’t worry, May,” Peter told her. “He’s Tony Stark. He isn’t going to want to hang out on a farm in Iowa for long. He’ll be gone after breakfast, tomorrow, probably.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she lost her annoyed expression, too.

“Are you hungry? I can make another sandwich.”

“You could talk me into it.”

><><><><><>

By the time they joined Ben and Tony in the dining room, the two men were deep into a conversation about the logistics of farming, and Tony had his phone out and was using it to not only take notes on what Ben was telling him, but also had a couple of search engines up and was looking through some data he was scanning.

“Thinking about becoming a farmer?” Peter asked, taking the seat beside the billionaire, while May excused herself to go get Richard.

“Not a _farmer_ ,” Tony said. “But maybe a _harvester_. It wouldn’t take too much to automate the combines your uncle has out there, and maybe make a fleet of them to lease out to the farmers.”

“It wouldn’t be _cheap_ , though,” Ben warned. “And the yield wouldn’t come, immediately. If you charged too much, they’d be better off hiring the extra labor.”

“That’s the good thing about being rich,” Tony told him, taking another bite of his sandwich but not turning his attention from the conversation – or the data in front of him. “I can afford to wait for it to become profitable.”

Peter shook his head, but Tony and Ben continued their conversation long after the sandwiches were gone.

><><><><<><

“You’re really going to milk the cow…?”

“If we don’t, she’ll bawl all night.”

“ _I’ll_ show you how, Tony, if you want,” Richard offered, helpfully.

They were out in the barn, again, after having spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon in the dining room and then the living room. May and Ben had gotten over the shock of finding themselves hosting Tony Stark and were getting used to his presence, while Richard was excited about any visitor, usually. Add in that it was _Ironman_? He was eager to spend time with the man and when Ben had sent them out to do the evening chores before dinner, the boy had invited Stark to come along.

Tony had raised an eyebrow at Peter, who gave him a challenging look, clearly asking if he thought he was too good for farm work. The billionaire hadn’t backed down – although he _did_ go change out of the suit that he was wearing to return from the guestroom in jeans and a polo. Peter had accompanied them, while Ben mentioned that he’d start on dinner with help from May.

“Show me how it’s done, kid,” Tony agreed, and they both watched as the youngster expertly milked the placid cow, filling the bucket about halfway before he announced that Tony could try it, if he wanted.

“I don’t know…” Tony said, uncertainly. “Maybe I should buy her dinner, first…?”

The boy didn’t understand the joke, but Peter smirked.

“Help him finish with the cow, and I’ll bring in the horses and settle them for the evening. Then we just need to feed everyone, and we’re done.”

“Farming’s a _lot_ of work,” Tony complained.

“True enough. You should be around during _harvest_. But it’s important.”

Peter left his cousin and Tony to their work and brought in the mare and her foal, as well as the other horse. By the time he had them fed and watered, and had made sure they were set for the night, Tony had managed to squeeze out a few thimblefuls of milk into the bucket and Richard was leaning against the cow’s rump holding his side, too polite to laugh out loud at the attempt, but clearly amused.

The billionaire scowled, pretending to be annoyed.

“Hey… can you build a superconductor?”

“No.”

“Can you _fly_?”

The boy shook his head, his brown eyes dancing with amusement.

“No.”

“Have you fought aliens?”

“On my _Nintendo_.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Then, no.”

“Don’t listen to him, Richard,” Peter said, grabbing his cousin and hauling him up over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. “He’s just jealous that you’re better at something than he is. Tony’s _competitive_.”

The boy laughed, looking at Tony speculatively, from his upside down position hanging from Peter’s arms.

“Can I take him to show and tell, Monday?”

“He won’t be-“

“Of _course_ you can,” Tony interrupted, standing up and moving the bucket of milk before the cow did something to manage to tip it over and waste all his efforts. “I love show and tell.”

“Yes!”

Richard squirmed to get free, and Peter let him down. The boy picked up the bucket and headed for the house, excited to tell his mother the big news.

“Are you sure you want to do that?”

“Show and tell?” Tony asked. “Why not? It might be fun. Unless you’d rather I didn’t…?”

Peter shook his head.

“You already said yes.”

“He looked pretty excited.”

“You’re _Ironman_ ,” Peter pointed out, smiling, slightly. “Of course he’s excited.”

Tony stepped a little closer to the boy, his eyes warm and suddenly hungry. He’d missed him so much. Was aching for him. He just hadn’t realized how much, until he was with him, again.

“Are _you_ excited?”

Peter affected a nonchalance that he didn’t feel, and pressed his palm against Tony’s chest, caressing him through the fabric of his shirt. He’d missed Tony, too.

“Nah.”

The billionaire smiled and leaned in, his hands sliding down Peter’s sides, stopping at his hips as he kissed him, gently at first, and then deepening it when Peter’s soft moan assured him that it wasn't unwanted.

“I missed you…” Tony murmured, softly, when he broke the kiss and put his arms around Peter, holding him closely and trying to convince his suddenly excited body that sex in a cow stall probably wasn't the cleanest option.

Presuming Peter was even willing – and they had any time to get that far.

“I missed you, too, Tony.”

The cow shifted next to them, and Tony let Peter go, thinking irrationally that maybe she didn’t approve of him holding the boy. Or maybe she could read his thoughts and didn’t want to share her stall with them. Just in case.

“Do you think May and Ben will let me stay until Monday?”

“I’ll think you’ll be bored out of your mind,” Peter told him, stepping back, but Tony saw his eyes go along his body, and he felt a thrill at the thought that he wasn't the only one who might have been thinking about them being suddenly naked and touching each other. “But, yes. If you really want to go to show and tell Monday, they’d probably let you stay.”

“Are you alright with it?”

“As long as you help out.”

“I can do that.”

“And you keep your hands to yourself. May’s a little freaked out that you’re the guy I’ve been telling her about all this time.”

“She doesn’t approve?”

“She thinks you’re too old for me.”

“I’m not.”

“I know.”

The age gap was never their problem, that was certain. Peter hadn’t been lying to his aunt when he said he liked older men – and he definitely had enjoyed Tony’s experience.

Tony hesitated.

“Keep my hands to myself _all the time_?” he asked. “Or just when there are people around?”

Peter couldn’t help himself.

“When there are people around.”

Before Tony could do more than feel relief at the fact that Peter wasn't rejecting him, they both heard May calling from the back porch for them to come eat. The boy checked to make sure the cow had food and fresh water, and then he and Tony headed for the house, both very much aware of the man walking beside them.


	27. 27

If Tony had been expecting sandwiches or something basic for dinner – and he really kind of _was_ , since lunch had been fairly simple – he was definitely shocked at the reality. The meal was being put on the table as he and Peter washed up in the kitchen sink and the smells coming from the dishes were mouth-watering. When he took the place that May offered him at the table – beside Richard, who squirmed with excitement – he saw that there were lambchops, potatoes with gravy, braised asparagus and fresh bread. All of it was prepared and presented in a fashion that wouldn’t have been out of place in an elegant restaurant, and certainly was _way_ out of the league of a dining room table in Podunk, Iowa.

“You guys always eat like this?” he asked, curiously, as he took the bowl of potatoes and served himself a healthy portion. There were flecks of green and other colors that told him more than just butter had been used to season them, and he was looking forward to trying them. “Or is this a visitor at the table thing?”

May smiled, looking pleased at the implied compliment.

“Ben is a good cook,” she told their guest. “He majored in international cuisine in college.”

“ _Seriously_?”

The man nodded, looking embarrassed as he seated himself at the head of the table.

“I had every intention of becoming a famous chef in Paris,” he admitted. “My minor was in _agriculture_ – to make sure that I understood the food I was cooking.”

“What brought you to _Iowa_?”

“Priorities change,” he said, his gaze going to Peter with a look of love that made the boy smile – and almost made Tony jealous – even though it was a definitely a different kind of love. “When my brother and his wife died, May and I knew that we needed to make a change. To ensure that there was a little more stability in our lives. We could jet-set, chasing after the right restaurant to run, or we could settle and make sure Peter – and any kids that _we_ might have – had a solid upbringing, in a healthy environment.”

“So we bought this farm from my folks,” May added. “It started a lot smaller than it is, now, but Ben is a genius with more than just food, and he’s added on each year, until we’ve reached the right size to make sure we can provide for Peter and Richard – and make a little extra on the side.”

“That’s amazing,” Tony said, not hiding how impressed he was.

Ben shrugged.

“We’ve had a few hiccups along the way – and not just the glitch with Peter’s scholarship, last year. Weather is rarely ideal for farmers who grow any kind of sustainable crop, and we’ve had a few rough years. The combines were a good idea, though. They’re an insurance policy, in case the crop fails, for some reason.”

“Because someone somewhere will always have one that needs harvesting,” May agreed.

Tony nodded, and sitting across from him like he was, Peter could see that there was a definite interest in the billionaire’s expression. He wondered what he was thinking about, but didn’t even need to ask, since Tony almost immediately jumped on the subject, clearly continuing a conversation that the two men must have been having, earlier. All about the financial viability of combines, and what would make them more efficient, and how would Ben suggest they could be streamlined to reduce cost without cutting back on the quality.

Peter looked at May, amused that the conversation was about commerce, and she rolled her eyes, and gestured for him to eat, while telling her son to do the same. The three of them listened to Tony and Ben’s conversation, but they also spent a large part of the meal discussing the new foal with Richard, who was now convinced that he was going to name the little creature Tony.

><<><><><>

“I like your family,” Tony told Peter later that evening.

The younger man smiled.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

After they’d eaten, May had told Peter and Tony that she and Ben would do the dishes and clean up. Peter and Richard (and Tony, when he realized what they were doing) cleared the table and wiped it down, bringing in the dishes to be scraped and loaded into the dishwasher, while Ben and May chatted about the usual things that married couples spoke about while being domestic. Richard had asked Tony if he knew how to play rummy, and that had started an hour long marathon of cards that had only ended when May told the little boy it was bath time and had sent him on upstairs to take care of it, with her and Ben following.

Peter and Tony had gone outside to walk, and once out into the night, Tony had put his arm around the younger man, wanting to hold him closer. To his relief and pleasure, Peter had been willing to sidle right up against him, and his hand was now hooked into the waist of Tony’s jeans.

“They’re handling you being here a lot better than I expected.”

“True.”

Peter nodded.

“May isn’t following us around, and Ben hasn’t pulled out the shotgun and run you off.”

Point in fact, they were clearly giving Peter time with Tony alone – probably May had long since told Ben about Peter’s problems with Tony ( _before_ they knew it was Tony _Stark_ ) and were giving him a chance to work it out, since Tony had so conveniently placed himself in the neighborhood with nothing to really distract them.

The billionaire chuckled.

“That’s a plus, I suppose.”

Peter guided him into the barn, wanting to make a final check on the new foal before bed. The big building was dimly lit, but they had no trouble seeing that all the animals were settled in, and the foal was asleep at her mother’s feet, with Darcie looming over her, protectively.

“Why are you so interested in the combines?” he asked the older man, who slid an arm around his waist, his long fingers slipping under Peter’s jeans to caress the bare skin of his hip.

“I think your aunt and uncle are sitting on a gold mine,” Tony replied. “If I could create an automated harvesting combine and lease it out – starting out here in the Midwest, but maybe to all parts of the globe – Stark Industries could make a killing.”

“ _And_ it would help the world…”

Tony shrugged, trying to act as if that had been the whole idea.

“Well, _yeah_ , Parker… of _course_. I mean, obviously it isn’t _just_ the money, right?”

“ _Right_ …”

“Right.” Tony smirked. “But if handled properly, it could make a _lot_ of money, too. I’m just saying…”

“For Ben and May, too?”

“Definitely.” He smiled, because he knew that Peter would like to hear it, _and_ it just happened to be true. “ _Millions_ , really. Enough to buy another cow, even – if they _wanted_.”

Peter chuckled.

“They don’t need more cows. Betty is retired and doesn’t even produce milk – Ben got her from a farmer down the road because Richard cried at the thought of her getting eaten – and Annie gives Ben the milk that he wants to have fresh butter, cream and anything else dairy that he cooks with.”

“Not cheese?”

“Making cheese is convoluted. It’s easier to go to the dairy farm, or the store.”

“God I love it when you talk _farmer_ …” Tony murmured, his hand roaming, now, to cup Peter’s rear. “You’re so sexy.”

Peter shivered. The touch was so familiar, and he’d missed it so much. The hot breath in his ear was exciting, and he leaned into Tony’s much larger body.

“ _Corn_ …” he whispered, seductively.

Tony laughed, feeling the tension that had suddenly come between them vanish, to be replaced by the familiarity that he enjoyed so much. He pulled his hand from Peter’s jeans and brought both arms around him, hugging him.

“Can we go somewhere?” he asked. “I want to be with you.”

“Not my room,” Peter replied, kissing Tony’s neck. “Or anywhere else in the house.”

“Tumble in the straw?”

“No.” Peter stepped back, and took Tony’s hand. “I know a place. Come with me.”

“I intend to.”

The boy rolled his eyes, groaning at the pun and how bad it was. He didn’t say anything, though, and they ended up ducking into a supply room at the far end of the barn. Tony noticed that it happened to be the most distance from the farmhouse, as well.


	28. 28

Peter turned on the light as he closed the door behind him, and Tony looked around.

It was clearly a supply room. There were all kinds of halters, bridles and a couple of saddles for the horses neatly arranged either on pegs or on stands. There was also a very small twin-sized bed. Tony didn’t head for it, immediately, though – as much as he might have liked to. Instead, he pulled Peter into his arms, again, and kissed him, hotly, all the loneliness of the last months fading at the taste of the boy’s mouth and the feel of Peter’s tongue searching for his.

Only when they were breathless did they pull away, and Peter looked up at him.

“No more complaining about me being a dancer…”

“No. No more over-working, though. _And_ I get to take care of you when you’re tired.”

“The combine thing is really a business plan?” Peter asked. “Not just a way to help without making it look like you are?”

“No, Peter,” Tony said, softly, understanding the question. “It _absolutely_ is a thing. May and Ben are going to be fine – even if the combine thing turns out to not be something that we end up doing. It _will_ , though, because I have a good feeling about its feasibility – and I’ll be the first to tell you I’m rarely wrong about such things.”

“Oh?”

He smiled, and kissed him, again, lingering but this time not so hard.

“You’ll see.” Tony stepped backward, keeping his hands on Peter and pulling him with him, until he felt the bed on the back of his knees. Then he sat down and drew Peter down with him, right into his lap where he could kiss him, again. His hand slid under Peter’s shirt and roamed the younger man’s stomach and chest, finding a nipple and teasing it, eliciting a soft moan from Peter that made Tony’s cock jump. “I love you Peter Parker,” he murmured, lifting the boy’s shirt and baring his chest and those wonderful abs. “Don’t ever leave me, again… please?”

“Tony…” Peter felt a thrill go through him that had nothing to do with the mouth that was suddenly teasing his nipple, nibbling and sucking on it, and then moving to the other. “Jesus… I won’t. Don’t stop.”

Tony made a noise in the affirmative, and he pulled Peter’s shirt off, his mouth going right back to his young lover’s nipples, while his hand went to Peter’s lap, finding and stroking the boy’s swelling cock through his jeans. Peter squirmed, impatiently, but Tony was in charge, now, and that was how they both liked it. The older man slid his hand along the length of the erection that was straining Peter’s jeans, sliding back and forth, the soft sounds of pleasure that Peter was making simply music to his ears while his tongue left trails of sloppy kisses from nipple to nipple as both were lavished with attention.

He finally stood, Peter still in his arms, and turned, laying the boy on the bed and looming over him.

“This thing doesn’t have bedbugs, does it?” he asked, huskily, reaching for the buttons on his jeans.

“I don’t know…” Peter watched as Tony pulled his pants and boxers down and off, revealing that he was already incredibly aroused, his cock long, hard and drooling precum. “Maybe…?”

“I’ll risk it…” Tony pulled his shirt off and moved on Peter, unable to wait. He shifted, his knees going to either side of Peter’s lean body to straddle him, and leaning over, guiding the head of his cock to hover near the boy’s face. “Suck me, Peter.”

Peter didn’t hesitate to obey. He opened his mouth, finding that Tony’s body tempered how much he could use his hands and was limited to simply lifting his head enough to brush the head with his lips. Tony did the rest, sliding his cock into Peter’s mouth and slowly pulling back, watching while the boy sucked him every time he leaned in.

“Fuck, honey…” he murmured, watching his cock disappear into Peter’s mouth, again. “You’re amazing… just… fucking… amazing…”

He had to pull back, soon, otherwise he was going to end up shooting his load down the younger man’s throat. Which wasn't a terrible thought, but he wanted to be deeper inside him. Wanted to see Peter pinned under him while he slammed himself deep.

And he wanted a taste of his own, too.

Tony backed up, leaned down and kissed Peter, once more, before he reached for the boy’s button.

“Let’s get you naked,” he whispered, brushing Peter’s hand away when he reached to help him. “I want to be inside you.”

“Yes. Hurry.”

The billionaire didn’t hurry as much as Peter would have preferred, though. He’d planned to, but when he pulled Peter’s jeans and underwear down and off, revealing the boy’s beautiful cock, he had to pause long enough to admire it. To touch it and caress it. The shape, the size, the thickness. It was all so perfect.

And _his_ , once again.

Tony leaned down and took that beautiful cock into his mouth and smiled around it when he heard Peter’s soft moan of pleasure. He didn’t have the same patience for _Peter_ to climax as he did when it came to stretching out his own pleasure. It was just too good. Too exciting to watch him writhe in ecstasy as Tony worked his cock with eager lips and tongue.

Peter stifled his cry of pleasure as he climaxed, but it still echoed in the little room and Tony held him down as he slurped and sucked, draining him dry before he finally shifted above him and pulled away from his cock, which was still pulsing and twitching in reaction to what had been done to it.

“You taste so good, honey,” he crooned, kissing Peter, tenderly. “So fucking delicious.”

“Shit…” Peter was limp under him, but he managed to shift, as well, and he opened his legs a little more. “Fuck me, Tony…”

They didn’t have any lube or lotion and he wasn't going to use leather oil – although he was sure the smell would be amazing coming off of Peter. Instead, he simply used spit to lube Peter’s tight hole as he stretched him, preparing him for his cock and playing with him at the same time. He stroked himself a few times, although it wasn't necessary since he hadn’t lost any hardness as he’d sucked Peter; it had been that erotic.

“Open up for me, baby,” he crooned as he guided the head to Peter’s entrance and then eased himself in, his kiss catching Peter’s groan of pleasure as he buried his cock deep. “That’s it, honey,” Tony murmured. He tucked his face in the crook of Peter’s shoulder and neck, his hand holding the boy tight as he slowly made love to him, listening to the sounds of their loving and the odd silence of the barn, instead of the background noise of a busy city. “So perfect for me, Peter…” he whispered, climaxing far sooner than he’d expected – and somewhat more violently, despite the gentle loving.

Peter wrapped his legs around the older man’s hips, holding him in place as Tony emptied inside of him, deliciously, and then he sighed in Tony’s ear.

“I missed you, Tony…”

“You missed me _screwing_ you? Or missed me being with you?”

“Both.” Peter turned his head and kissed him. “That’s alright, isn’t it? That I like having sex with you?”

“Of course it is. I like having sex with you, too, honey.” He chuckled, feeling a relief that was as much a release as his orgasm. Peter was his, again. Had accepted him. Even wanted him. And would certainly want him, again, soon. “We _probably_ can’t sleep out here, though…”

“No.”

Tony reluctantly pulled out of Peter and they cleaned up as well as they could before dressing each other, punctuating the activity with a lot of kisses and gentle nips – although neither was interesting in leaving any marks on the other, just then. They just wanted to reacquaint themselves with the other.

“I can hold you for a little while, though, right?” Tony asked, pulling Peter back down into his lap, again – only without the urgency that they had had before. “Before you send me to sleep in my cold, empty bed…?”

“I can send one of the dogs to join you, if you’d like,” Peter offered, running his hand, lightly, along Tony’s side. “They’re pretty good cuddlers.”

“No. I’ll pass.”

They were silent for a while, then, but finally Peter stretched, and pulled himself out of the older man’s lap. “We need to get to bed. The day starts early around here.”

“ _How_ early?” Tony asked. “Tell me May isn’t going to be waking me up with the sun…?”

“ _You_ , probably not,” Peter assured him. “You’re a guest, after all. Ben and I will be up long before the sun, getting everything done that needs to be taken care of before church.”

“Church, huh?”

Peter smiled, taking his hand and kissing it, lightly.

“Don’t worry; you don’t have to go. _I_ , on the other hand, will be expected to make an appearance, as I am home, visiting, and by now everyone will know it. While we’re gone, you can do your combine research, or look around.”

“I’m not invited?”

“Of course you are, if you _want_. It’ll be like May and Ben’s version of show and tell.”

“Sounds fun.”

Peter smirked.


	29. 29

“You don’t _have_ to do it.”

Tony scowled, looking at the cow, who was looking at him, almost with resignation.

“Of _course_ I have to do it, Peter,” he said. “Your _six-year-old_ cousin can do it. I can’t be shown up by a little kid.”

Richard smiled, already comfortable with Tony – who was charming when he wanted to be.

“I can touch my tongue to my nose, too. Can _you_ do that?”

The billionaire scowled, although Peter could tell it wasn't sincere.

“Let me ask you something, Richard…”

“Yeah?”

“Do you spend a lot of time with Peter, here?”

The boy’s smile grew.

“Yeah.”

“Well, stop it. He’s rubbing off on you.”

Peter smirked.

“It’s only natural.”

“No one likes a wise-ass, Parker,” Tony said. He pointed at Richard. “That means _you_ , too, kid. Give me the bucket so I can milk the cow.”

“We’re going to miss church,” Richard said to Peter.

“Definitely.”

><><><><><

They _didn’t_ miss church, though, and Tony wasn't the distraction that Peter had anticipated.

At least, not during the sermon.

Afterward, though, the entire congregation gathered in the church yard for a potluck, and Tony was definitely the main attraction – although Peter was a close runner-up, since everyone had been glad to see him home.

“That was a good time,” Tony said as he and Peter followed Ben’s truck down the highway back toward the Parker farm in Tony’s rental car. “I’m not sure I can handle all of this…”

“The attention?” Peter asked, his hand resting lightly on Tony’s thigh, sliding up, occasionally, to brush his groin through the suit he was wearing, almost possessively.

“The _wholesomeness_ ,” the billionaire corrected. “I’m _used_ to being the center of attention; _that_ isn’t anything new for me.”

“Welcome to _Iowa_ ,” Peter said, smiling. “You were definitely the highlight of the morning.”

Tony shrugged. He’d actually enjoyed himself. The people in the little community that catered to all the farming families in that area of the county had been friendly without being pushy, and even though they all knew who he was, they were incredibly polite – almost diffident – about asking if they could have an autograph, or a picture. To offset that, Tony had not only gathered all the youngsters in the small crowd together – and then had activated his Ironman suit over his clothes, but he’d insisted on a group picture as well as individual ones with each child and any adult who wanted it, so they would all have a story to tell, some day.

The Avengers didn’t go to Iowa very often, after all.

“It was a good time,” Tony repeated. “What do we do, now?”

“We go home and do chores.”

“We did chores, yesterday – _and_ this morning.”

Peter rolled his eyes.

“Cows won’t milk themselves, and the chickens don’t know how to scoop out the feed and spread it around.”

The older man huffed.

“I knew there was a reason I’m not a farmer. They work too hard.”

“True.”

They settled into the drive, and despite his grumbling, Tony didn’t make any negative comments when they returned to the farm and he went to change into jeans, once more, to help Richard and Peter do the chores, stopping long enough to watch Ben and May spend some time with the mare and new foal – with Richard finally getting a chance to get a good look at the little creature.

Then, not surprising Peter (or May), Tony and Ben went into the combine garage to start yet another conversation about the potential of the machines, while Peter and May went into the house to start prepping for dinner, since Ben’s broken hand didn’t allow him to do the chopping, grating and menial labor that came with making a high-quality meal like he was used to presenting.

“I have to admit, I kind of like him…” she said to her nephew as they stood beside each other, washing vegetables at the kitchen sink.

“Yeah?” Peter didn’t look up from what he was doing. “Why’s that?”

“I expected him to be more standoffish. You know, being a superhero and a billionaire…”

“I think he normally _is_ ,” Peter confirmed. “He likes you guys – and he’s being charming because he wants to talk Ben into working with him on the combine thing.”

She snorted.

“He doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who needs to schmooze someone. I imagine he could find a network of big-time farmers instead of our little operation, here. He’s doing it for you.”

“For me?”

May rolled her eyes.

“You’re pretty _smart_ , little man,” she told him – making him smile by her use of a nickname that she hadn’t called him in years. “But you’re blind, sometimes. He likes you, and he wants to work with Ben because of you.”

Peter looked at her, surprised.

“So you don’t think he’s sincere?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I think that he absolutely is serious about the viability of this combine thing – and Ben agrees that it has the potential to be incredibly profitable to everyone involved, which is why he’s on board with it. What I _meant_ was, is that Tony would rather work with Ben than work with someone else, because if he makes _Ben_ rich, it’s going to ease the strain that you’re under – and I agree, completely.”

“But that isn’t right,” Peter said, feeling his stomach clench, a little. “We’ll owe him.”

“Of course we won’t.”

“No?”

“He’s not handing the money out, frivolously, Peter; he’s going into a business deal. Ben won’t owe him anything but the honest effort that he is going to make to ensure that the business is successful. Tony would agree.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” She wiped her hands dry. “And let me tell you something, while we’re on the subject of owing… You don’t owe Ben and me _anything_. You know that, right?”

“I _do_ owe you. My tuition-“

“Was paid for because we love you. We had the means to pay it, and because we love you and we want you to succeed and be happy, we paid it. And if the scholarship hadn’t been figured out, we’d have willingly paid _this_ year, too.”

“But…”

She smiled.

“We were going to tell you this, later,” she said to him, her expression just a little mysterious. “But I think it’s safe to let you know…”

“Know what?”

“The money you’ve been sending us every week? To pay us back?”

“Yes?”

“We haven’t been applying that to the loan on the combines.”

“They haven’t been getting paid off?”

“Of course they have. Only not with the money _you_ send. That’s _your_ money, Peter Parker, and Ben and I have had it in a mutual account for you – to use if something came up and you needed it. We’ve been hoarding money on the side and using _that_ to pay off the loan against the combines.”

“You shouldn’t have done that…”

“Why not?” she shrugged, gesturing around the kitchen. “Do we look like we’re suffering, Peter? Is Richard crying at night because he’s hungry? Or because he doesn’t have everything that he needs? And many things that he _doesn’t_ really need, but has convinced us that he can’t live without?”

“No, of course not. It’s just…”

“It’s just that we love you, and we want you to be happy, little man,” she told him, and her expression was so sincere, and so loving that Peter felt tears stinging his eyes. “You’re _ours_ , and we are more than willing to do whatever is needed to make sure you succeed.”

He sniffed, and she smiled.

“I love you, May.”

“I love you, too, Peter Parker.” She put her arms around him and held him close, ignoring the fact that the front of his t-shirt was wet and was getting hers damp, too. She kissed his temple when she eventually pulled away. “Now that the secret is out, we need to talk about you making some lifestyle changes.”

“You mean being with Tony?”

“No. Of course not. If he’s what makes you happy, then you should be with him – and Ben agrees. But you’re working too many hours, and since you know, now, that we don’t want – and will not _take_ – your money, you need to slow down a bit and stop working so much. You’re too thin and you look tired.”

“I still need to pay rent and eat.”

“You can do that working half the hours that you do, now, though. Right?”

He hesitated, but had to agree.

He worked the extra hours to have money to send home. It wasn't a secret.

“Yes.”

“Then cut back your hours.” She smiled, gently, at him and tapped his nose. “If you like being a dancer, then keep on being a dancer – just not as often. Or, if you can find something that pays the rent and doesn’t require you to grind your scrawny hips at women as they ogle you, then do that.”

“My hips aren’t scrawny…”

She poked him.

“Pretty scrawny. Just think about it, alright?”

He nodded. And smiled. And then hugged her, again, because he couldn’t help himself.

“I will. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now do me a favor and grate the carrots for me, will you? I hate using that thing.”


	30. 30

Dinner was a time for communicating at the Parker household, Tony was discovering.

When he and Ben had returned from the combine garage with Richard coming running from the field that held the horses during the day, Peter and May had been in the kitchen just finishing up with prepping their dinner ingredients. The younger Parker – but not the _youngest_ Parker – had greeted them with a smile and had hugged his uncle for no reason at all, as near as the billionaire could figure. Ben had accepted it, though, with a smile and even a fond tousling of Peter’s beautiful curls, and had then given the boy a gentle nudge, telling him to take Tony and Richard out of his kitchen and give him room to make dinner.

“Is your homework done?” Peter asked his cousin as they went into the living room.

“He’s _six_ ,” Tony had said, surprised at the question. “How much homework can he _have_?”

“He’s in third grade,” Peter replied. “They get homework.”

“ _Third grade_?”

That didn’t seem right, but Stark had to admit that he wasn't completely sure about that. He was doing the mental math, when the boy interrupted.

“I skipped two grades,” Richard told Tony, looking pleased with himself as he sat on the arm of the recliner that Peter had seated himself in, and leaning against his cousin’s shoulder but watching the billionaire.

“Really? _Wow_.”

Tony didn’t even have to pretend to be impressed.

“May taught him to read well before he started preschool,” Peter explained, obviously proud. “And he’s way ahead of other kids his age, really. Rather than stick him in classes that wouldn’t teach him anything, they advanced him – on a trial basis – and then kept him where he was when he showed that he could keep up.”

“Has his IQ been tested?”

“Not until he’s nine,” Peter replied. “May and Ben want his childhood to be as normal as it can, right now, so they’re not going to let him be tested for a few more years.”

“So I don’t become a serial killer or something,” Richard explained.

Peter rolled his eyes, but when Tony looked at him, he shrugged.

“Something like that.”

“So, they _do_ have axe murderers in Iowa…” the older man said, shaking his head, ruefully. “Romanoff is never going to let me live that down.”

“What?”

He shrugged.

“Nothing.” Tony turned his attention to Richard, then. “What are you going to be when you grow up?”

“A _dancer_. Like Peter.”

“Like Peter, huh?” Tony looked at his young lover, wondering if Richard knew what kind of dancer his cousin was. He was precocious, yes, but that seemed unlikely. “What kind of dancing does Peter do?”

The boy jumped off the arm of the chair and gestured for his cousin to join him in the middle of the living room floor. Peter rolled his eyes, but did as he was told, and as Tony settled on the sofa next to the recliner Peter vacated, he watched as Richard put his hands on Peter’s hips – since they were the highest that he could reach, properly, and led his cousin around the room in a very respectable waltz.

Obviously, the boy was learning a lot more than corn farming.

“That’s impressive,” Tony said, approvingly, when they were finished. “I love that kind of dancing.”

“I can square dance, too,” Richard said.

“And you can show him a different time,” Peter interrupted. “Go bring me your homework, so I can check it.”

The boy ran off, heading for the stairs, and Tony smirked.

“A _dancer_ , huh?”

“He’s not going to be a dancer,” Peter told him. “At least, not one like me.”

“Because…?”

“Because we’ll make sure that he doesn’t have the same problem with his scholarships that I had, so he won’t have to. He’ll be able to focus on school, only.”

“But what if he _wanted_ to?”

“Then he can. But two years ago, he wanted to be a jockey who was an astronaut on the side, so he’s probably going to change his mind a few more times between now and when he graduates.”

“Your family is amazing.”

Peter smiled, pleased at the compliment and not hiding it.

“Thank you.”

“I _mean_ it.”

“I know.”

“You’re-“

Before he could say anything else, though, Richard was back, carrying his backpack and demanding their attention, and Peter smiled over at Tony, apologetically, before turning his attention to the workbook and the assignments that his cousin began showing him.

><><>><><>

“So what did you men find out?” May asked Ben and Tony when they’d all gathered at the table for dinner.

An incredible meal consisting of pork roast with a glaze made of something that managed to be tart and sweet at the same time, and blended incredibly with the taste of the meat – as well as the cold slaw that was on one side, and the cheese-charred au gratin potatoes that were on the other. Tony had started eating, hungrily, but had slowed down as he ate, simply to enjoy the meal.

“I’m prepared to make you two an offer,” he said, wiping his face and almost disappointed at the slightest wasted glaze on the napkin – it was that good.

“Oh?” she looked at Ben, who was watching Tony.

“Yes. I want Ben to do a discovery – to test the validity of the market. He knows all of the farmers in the area, because he does business with many of them. Talk to them, and then have them introduce you to farmers that you may not know, until you’ve covered a fair amount of the people in the area. This _county_ , at least, if not a few of them. See what they tell you, and how they react to the idea. I’ll pay you for your time, of course, and any traveling that you have to do. Since you may be gone from home a day or so at a time, you’ll want to hire someone to help around here once Peter goes back to school, too – and I’ll pay for that.”

“And when we have our data?” May asked. “Then what?”

“That’s where the offer comes in,” Tony said, smoothly. “I can finance everything, and be the majority partner, and will offer you a commission for the work that you do when it comes to the new business.”

“ _Or_ …?” Peter asked, curiously.

“Or I accept a bond with them,” the billionaire said. “And we go in on things, together – as equal partners.”

“How much would we need to put up, to start?” Ben asked, curiously.

“It’ll depend on what we find. But the initial equity? Probably five hundred thousand.”

It sounded so easy when he was saying it, because he was rich. But when Peter looked at Ben, he saw that his uncle hadn’t even blinked. He simply looked at May, waited for her to nod, and then he nodded at Tony.

“We’re in.”

Peter frowned. They were already in debt because of his tuition – and now he knew that they hadn’t even been using his money to help pay it. But that made him realize something else, and he suddenly didn’t feel quite so concerned – maybe even a little excited.

“You can use my money,” he told Ben.

When his uncle didn’t ask what he meant, the boy knew that while they’d been cooking dinner, May must have told her husband that Peter knew about them saving the money that he’d been sending home to them.

“That’s for _you_ ,” Ben said. “We’ll find it another way. Maybe-“

“It’s for my _future_ , May said,” Peter corrected. “A partnership with Tony and his company would be a good investment in my future, I’d think.” He looked at the billionaire. “Right?”

“Yes.”

Tony wasn't smiling, but Peter saw his expression change as the older man realized that it was a solution to him helping Peter without giving him a handout that would make him feel obligated. If Peter was a partner – and putting his own money up like he was speaking of doing would definitely make him a partner – then it was Tony’s responsibility to whatever they called the new business to make sure that all of the people in it were taken care of properly.

Ben looked at Tony, and offered him his hand – the one with the cast.

“Done.”

Tony took the hand and now he _did_ smile.

“Excellent. This is going to be great.”


	31. 31

It was Tony and Peter who cleaned up the dishes that night. May and Ben went out with Richard to check the animals and make sure everything was secured for the night, along with the dogs. Peter rinsed the dishes, while Tony loaded them into the dishwasher.

“I was thinking that I might quit my job,” the younger man said, not looking up from the plate he was scraping into the garbage disposal.

Tony felt a flare of hope. Not so much because Peter was talking about not being a _dancer_ , really, but because it might mean a shift in the boy’s willingness to see things his way – and maybe _compromise_ a little? He didn’t press, though. Not _yet_ , anyway.

“Oh?” he asked, trying for nonchalant. “Why’s that?”

“Well, I should be focusing a little more on school, and it’s hard to do that when I’m staying up so late all the time and coming home tired. I still need a _job_ ,” he added, quickly. “Because I have to pay rent and eat, of course. But maybe I could find something a little less… flamboyant. Something that pays the bills but doesn’t show so much skin to other people.”

“I know there is an internship open at Stark Industries,” Tony replied. “They’re hard to get, like you said, but the one that is open is the least desirable.”

“Oh?” Peter looked over. “Why is that?”

“Because no one wants to be my personal intern,” he answered.

“I find that hard to believe.”

Working with him? Watching him create? Who wouldn’t want that?

“I’m a dick to them,” he admitted. “They’re not even close to understanding what I’m working on, most of the time, and I can’t handle that. It makes me want to belittle them. One guy cried.”

“You made someone cry?”

“I told you it was the least desirable,” he reminded him. “I _can_ be a tyrant, sometimes.”

“Huh. Maybe you just haven’t found the right person, yet?” Peter set his hand over Tony’s, where it was resting on the counter. His expression uncertain, as if he didn’t know how the advance would be received. “Someone who can handle you? Who can keep up with you?”

“I have a guy in mind,” Tony said, his eyes dark, now, with emotion that Peter wasn't able to read. “Some smart ass kid from Iowa.”

He smiled, shyly, at that, but moved his hand.

“Tell me more about the internship.”

“It isn’t a _paid_ position,” Tony told him. “That’s to make sure all the interns understand that they’re the very lowest of the low.”

“I need a job that pays, Tony,” Peter reminded him.

“In _deference_ to the fact that interns aren’t paid, they do get allowances. We know they need to eat, after all.”

“Allowances?” he echoed, looking skeptical.

Tony rolled his eyes, and tapped Peter’s nose.

“Not like _that_. Well, a _little_ like that, but there isn’t anything _kept_ about it. It’s not like a sugar daddy allowance. Interns get living expense allowances, and clothing allowances, rent or mortgage allowance. Pretty much SI pays for them to be their intern, they just don’t get a set salary.”

“And if we get in an argument and you decide you don’t want me as your intern…?”

“It’s also _contracted_. New York is an at will state, however, the contract is binding for interns – again, because they don’t get paid. That’s to keep the bosses and executives from being able to coerce favors of a sexual nature from their interns by threatening to take away the internship and leave them out on the street.”

“Oh.”

Tony would have leaned over and kissed him, just then, but the back-porch door opened, announcing the return of the others.

“Think about it, alright? There’s no rush, except that the sooner you decide, the sooner I can get the contract ready, and if you want to move someplace closer to work – which would be more convenient, but is entirely up to _you_ – I could find you to a place to call your own that maybe isn’t too much of a dump.”

“Yeah. I will. Thanks.”

Richard was the first one to enter the kitchen and he burst into the room with an excited grin.

“Guess what, Peter?”

“What?”

“Darcie let me touch her baby.”

“Wow. Did Ben hold her?”

“Nope.”

May had entered the kitchen by then, as well, and she shook her head.

“He walked up and she stepped aside, like she wanted to introduce them.”

“That’s great, Richard.”

The little boy beamed, and looked up at Tony.

“You’re still coming to show and tell, tomorrow?”

“If I’m still invited.”

“But not if you don’t get upstairs and take a _bath_ ,” May added.

“Awww.”

Peter wasn't the only one to smile at that, and his aunt looked around.

“Are you boys done in here?”

“Almost. Why?”

“Ben wants to make a cake. He’s in a good mood, and wants to celebrate.”

“We’re done,” Peter told her, looking pleased – although Tony couldn’t understand why.

It was _cake_ , after all. Ben was an excellent cook, Tony was more than willing to admit, but how much could someone do with a box of cake mix, after all?

“Good.” She shooed them both away as Ben walked into the kitchen, as well. “Get out of here and find something to do.”

Peter didn’t wait to be told, twice, and he left, walking into the dining room, followed by Tony.

“He can bake, too?”

“If it involves food, Ben is a master,” Peter assured him, getting a deck of cards from a shelf of board games and puzzles, and sitting at the table. “But he’s _messy_ , too, if May isn’t right there to clean as he goes, so they’ll be occupied for a while and we won’t be allowed in the kitchen until they’re done.”

Tony moved behind him, sliding his hand along Peter’s shoulder before he leaned over to brush a kiss against his ear.

“Then why don’t we go out to the barn…?” he murmured, softly. “Not because I want to be inside you, but I want to hold you.”

“I need to listen for Richard,” Peter told him, shivering at the hot breath in his ear, and touching Tony’s hand. “He’s precocious, but he’s also _six_. A six year old in a bath filled with water and half a dozen bath toys can make a huge mess if they’re not supervised.”

“Oh.”

He hadn’t though about that, really – which wasn't too surprising.

“I’ll take a raincheck on the barn, though,” Peter added, smiling.

“Done.” Tony sat down at the table, as well, and was amused that he was actually listening for the sounds of chaos coming from upstairs, now. “Deal the cards, honey.”

><><><><><

“Last chance to change your mind…”

Tony smirked, standing in the hallway of the school, outside of Richard’s classroom.

“Change my mind? I’m not afraid of a few 3rd graders, May Parker. I’ll have you know I’ve faced down aliens, media tycoons and crooked politicians. What on earth could these kids throw at me?”

She smiled, amused, and shrugged.

“Silly me. You don’t want me to go in with you when Richard’s turn comes to present you?”

“Of course I do,” the billionaire said. “I can’t make an entrance without a sexy woman on my arm. Even if she’s married and I’m much more interested in her nephew.”

Tony had woken that morning in the guest room – alone, of course – and with the smell of pancakes and coffee permeating the entire house. He’d stretched, and rolled over, debating going back to sleep, but had soon found that that wasn't going to be allowed to happen.

His door was flung open without any knocking, and an extremely excited six-year-old was jumping on him, shaking him awake – and had been joined by the largest of the Parker’s dogs; an extremely hairy thing that was far too fond of sticking her nose in Tony’s crotch any chance she got.

“Tony! Wake up It’s morning.”

He’d promptly covered his head with a pillow.

“Are you _sure_? It looks pretty dark out.”

He didn’t know, really, since he hadn’t opened his eyes enough to even look out the window. Those strong little hands shook his shoulder, again. Hands that were strong enough to milk a cow. Definitely strong enough that they were hard to ignore.

“It’s morning. You need to get ready for show and tell.”

“What time is it?”

“Five.”

He pulled the pillow off his face, looking at the boy in a mixture of disbelief and exasperation.

“Why are you waking me up at five am?”

“It’s _morning_ ,” Richard told him. “Come eat.”

“Where’s your mother?”

The boy smiled, not at all intimidated by Tony’s scowl.

“Downstairs watching dad make breakfast.”

“Does she know you’re up here bullying me?”

His smile only grew.

“She sent me to wake you up.”

“Where’s your cousin?”

“Outside milking the cow so dad can start making butter before I go to school. Show and tell is this morning.

Tony gave up. They were a lot more productive early in the day than he was, and it was clear that while he wasn't expected to help with the chores (not that he would have minded, of course, but probably he would have slowed them all down) he wasn't going to be allowed to sleep in, either.

He wrapped an arm around the dog to pull her nose away from his crotch, where she was rooting cheerfully through the blankets, and sat up, rubbing his face with his free hand.

“Go tell your mom that no one eats breakfast at five in the morning.”

Richard jumped off the bed and the dog followed.

“ _Farmers_ do. Up before the sun and asleep with the chickens.”

The way he said it made Tony think that it might be a proverb, or something. He rolled his eyes.

“Superheroes sleep in. Up in time for happy hour and asleep before the sun can come up and wake you.”

The boy knew he was being teased, and he smiled, cheerfully. He did _everything_ cheerfully, Tony had noticed. The product of being raised in a loving family, and surrounded by Iowa, he supposed.

“Should I tell mom that?”

“No.” He grabbed at the boy, feeling a surge of fondness for the little guy, and turned him upside down as he got up, the boy now dangling from his grip by his ankle, and giggling. “You should tell her that farmers need different hours, and I’m going to write a letter of protest.”

He righted the miniature farmer and set him on his feet, and then looked down at himself.

“What do people wear for show and tell?”

Richard smirked – and it was adorable on him.

“Clothes.”

The billionaire rolled his eyes, amused as hell.

“Now I know why you’ve skipped so many grades; you’re a genius.”

The boy laughed and left, taking his dog with him, and Tony shook his head, wondering if he had time to shower before breakfast, but deciding that coffee took precedence over all else, just then.


	32. 32

Breakfast had been delicious, but nothing ultra fancy – almost to Tony’s disappointment. He was getting used to Ben’s cooking, and was sorely going to miss it when he left, he knew. Scrambled eggs, hash brown potatoes and ham – and always with fresh bread which had been baked that morning but actually thrown together the night before, he’d been told. It was filling and he ate more than was really good for him – and had been shocked when they were finishing up and May had told Richard the bus was going to be there, soon, and he’d better go get his things.

The billionaire looked at his watch.

“The bus? At _six-thirty_?”

Ben nodded.

“It’s rural pickups,” he reminded the other man. “They have a lot of ground to cover to get everyone, and it can take a while.”

“It’s better than it used to be,” Peter added. “I was getting on the bus by six, and had so much time on the ride home that I always had my homework finished before I got off. They added another route last year so it isn’t quite as long a ride, now.”

“You can’t just take him in?” Tony asked, prepared to offer to do just that.

“We _could_ ,” Ben said. “But the bus is a good place for him to have a chance to socialize with kids his age, as well as his classmates and some that are older. Living out here like we do, he needs as many opportunities as he can get.”

“Especially being advanced, like he is,” May agreed.

“Huh. Makes sense.”

“Lucky for _you_ ,” May added. “ _I_ will drive you in to the school, myself, so you don’t have to ride the bus to show and tell.”

“You’re too kind.” He’d rolled his eyes and reached for another serving of bread.

><><><><>

And now here he was, peeking through the narrow window of the classroom, waiting for his cue that it was time for him to make his entrance. The kid who had been showing off the puppy handed the small creature to her mother, and then sat down at her desk, and Richard sprang to his feet, moved to the front of the class and looked toward the door.

“That’s your cue,” May said, having been looking through the window, as well.

Tony had decided that Tony Stark didn’t go to show and tell in jeans and a t-shirt. When he entered the room with May (not on his arm, just walking with him in the capacity of being the person to record the event for Peter and Ben) he was wearing the superbly tailored suit that he’d shown up on their doorstep wearing. Since many of the kids in the classroom attended church at the same one the Parkers did, and had shared the story with their classmates, there wasn't a lot of shock, but there was a lot of excitement – even from the kids who’d already had a chance to meet him.

“This is Tony Stark,” Richard said, gesturing to Tony, who came over to stand beside him and look at the kids. “He’s a friend of mine.”

The boy was grinning so broadly that the billionaire was surprised his head didn’t split in two and fall to either side. He was _happy_ , though, and that was only a good thing. He put his hand on Richard’s bony shoulder, looking at the kids in the class. There were fifteen of them, and he actually recognized a couple from the day before at church.

“Hey kids. Richard told me today was show and tell, so I thought I’d come and see where he went to school, and who he spends time with when he’s not hanging out with me and the Avengers.”

><><><><><

While May and Tony were gone, Peter and Ben went out to take care of the rest of the morning chores and spend a little time together. Time that neither really felt they had enough of with Peter away at school.

They started in the barn, where Peter cleaned out the three stalls they used; one larger one for the two cows and the other two for the horses. Ben didn’t do much more than supervise – and Peter didn’t need a lot of supervision when doing something that he’d done so many times while growing up.

“I like your friend,” Ben said, taking advantage of having Peter alone. “He seems like there’s more to him than you see on TV and in the news.”

Peter nodded, but he gave his uncle a sidelong look.

“But you’d prefer someone else?”

“Someone _younger_ , maybe…” Ben admitted, shrugging. “It’s a bit of an age difference.”

“And _female_?”

The older man made a face.

“Yeah. _Maybe_. But not because of the guy to guy thing,” he clarified. “Your aunt and I want you happy, you know that. And that’s what makes you happy. We’re good with that.”

“What, then?”

“Your relationship with Tony Stark – or any other _man_ – isn’t going to produce us any grandchildren, Peter. And yes, we know that technically, they wouldn’t be _grandchildren_. But it would still be the patter of little feet – and the chance to spoil someone that we can then hand back to the parents.”

“Yes.” Peter smiled. “You guys will be great at doing the grandparent thing.”

“But we’ll have to wait for _Richard_ , now. And at the moment, he thinks girls will give him cooties.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to be,” Ben told him. “Like I said, you’re happy and that’s what is important. But does _Tony_ make you happy?”

“It’s been bumpy,” Peter admitted. “But I really like him.”

“ _Love_ him?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

The older man nodded, looking pleased at the admission.

“Well, you’re smart enough to _know_ when you don’t know. That’s good.”

“How did you know you loved May?” Peter asked.

“The first time we danced together. The way we fit so well together. Like she was my missing half that I never knew was missing.”

The boy smiled.

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah. And I don’t have any regrets. I just don’t want you to have any, either. So make sure you do what makes you happy.” He hesitated, and his brown eyes were suddenly amused. “Or _who_ makes you happy.”

Peter made a face and rolled his eyes.

“That’s gross, Ben.”

Coming from the guy who was basically your father, it was, anyways.

><><><><>

Ben and Peter were at the table playing cards when the dogs started barking, excitedly, alerting them that someone was outside, long before they heard the truck pull up, outside.

“May and Tony,” Ben said, recognizing the bark as a welcome – and one that they reserved for family members. “Wonder how show and tell went…”

Peter shrugged, but had to force down a smile when Tony and walked in a short time later. His aunt looked great, as usual, and was carrying a paper bag from the local grocery store. Tony looked as handsome as ever and was also carrying a bag, but he looked exhausted.

“How was it?” Peter asked, watching as they both vanished into the kitchen for a moment, set the bags on the counter and then returned.

Tony flopped down on the chair beside Peter’s, dramatically.

“They were _horrible_ ,” he complained, leaning back and closing his eyes. “Next time, I’m going to charge a fee.”

“Don’t listen to him, Peter,” May said, amused and not bothering to hide it. “He was very good with the children and they had a great time.”

“ _How big is the Hulk?”_ Tony said, bringing his voice higher to mimic the tenor of a nine-year-old _. “What do you feed him? Is Captain America really Superman in disguise? Do you really know Thor? Can you lift his hammer? What’s it made out of? How high can Captain America jump? Does Captain America have Captain America underwear? How do you go to the bathroom in the Ironman suit? Does Black Widow really-“_

“We get it,” Ben interrupted with a chuckle. He looked Tony over. “I don’t see any blood, so you must have done alright.”

“He was _fine_ ,” May said – again – as she sat down. “Had them eating out of the palm of his hand.”

“Like a bunch of little savages,” Tony complained. “Richard’s the youngest of the lot, but he’s definitely the best behaved. And don’t even get me _started_ on their teacher…”

“Mrs. Simpson?” Peter asked. “What do you mean?”

“The woman’s like an octopus, Peter; running her hand along the small of my back when she thought no one was looking. Giving me come hither looks and showing all kinds of cleavage.”

Ben frowned.

“She’s _sixty_ …”

May snorted, delicately, definitely amused.

“I didn’t see any of that.”

“Well, you weren’t paying attention.”

“I recorded the entire show and tell,” she reminded him.

Richard had asked her to, and she’d known Ben and Peter would be interested in seeing it.

“Maybe you’re exaggerating?” Peter suggested. “She was _my_ teacher, and I don’t remember her doing any of that.”

“You were _nine_ ,” Tony pointed out. “And probably not as cute as I am.”

“He was pretty cute,” May disagreed. “Pretty curls that any girl would kill for, eyelashes framing the biggest brown eyes and his bubble bu-“

“He gets it,” Peter interrupted, blushing, and amused. “We don’t need details.”

“Oh, we _do_ ,” Tony disagreed. “Keep going, May.”

Ben chuckled, and tossed in his cards.

“May? Why don’t we saddle the horses and take Darcie out for some exercise? That foal is all energy.”

Her eyes lit up, and she nodded.

“Great idea.” She looked at Peter and Tony. “You’re on your own, boys.”

The two left and Peter gathered up the cards.

“Did you eat?” he asked the billionaire.

“We stopped at the store in town when we were done with show and tell. Ben’s making lasagna, tonight, and May had to get him some ingredients. Then we had a burger. You?”

“Yes.” Peter smiled, reaching out and touching Tony’s cheek, running his finger along the line of facial hair. “You do look tired.”

“I am. Getting up at five in the morning is torture.”

“Let’s go sit down.”

He stood up and took the older man’s hand, leading him to the living room couch. He sat on the end, and Tony sat beside him, but then leaned over and put his head in Peter’s lap, stretching his full length on the comfortable sofa with a slightly exaggerated sigh of exhaustion.

“That’s better,” he mumbled, agreeably.

“Shoes off the couch…”

The billionaire scowled, but didn’t even lift his head. He just kicked his shoes off, one at a time, and rolled a little so he was turned facing inward, his head on Peter’s muscular thigh, and his hand coming up to rest next to it.

“When I get _home,_ I’m going to walk around in my underwear and stand on the couch with my shoes on…”


	33. 33

“When are you leaving?” Peter asked, curiously, running his fingers through Tony’s thick hair, softly.

“Tomorrow,” came the reply. “I’m out of clothes and I have a few things I want to get taken care of as soon as possible.”

“Like what?”

“Depends on _you_ , really.”

“Oh?”

“I have contracts to get the lawyers started on for the combine proposition. And, if you’re interested in the intern job, I want to get _that_ contract written up, also.”

“That’s really a thing, huh?”

“It _is_ , honey,” Tony told him, catching his hand and holding it against his lips for a moment, and then just holding it, pressing it against his stomach. “How long are you staying here?”

“It’s Spring break,” Peter reminded him. “I’ll stay through Friday and leave Saturday. May and I caught up with a guy that lives a few miles down the highway while we were at church, yesterday. His sons will start coming by to do the heavy work, here, until Ben’s hand is out of the cast.”

“Paid?”

“Yes. _And_ they’ll be fed. Everyone knows how well Ben cooks – he’s a legend around here – so the guy didn’t even need to ask his boys. They’ll jump at the chance to eat at the Parker table every evening.”

“I believe it. If you want – and I’m not trying to push you into anything, or rush you – I’ll have the contract for the internship written up with your name, and all the allowances added in, and have Pepper’s signature on it and waiting for you by the time you get back.”

“I’d be crazy to say no,” Peter replied, feeling a wave of relief go through him at the thought of having a job like that. One that he enjoyed, and probably wouldn’t make him work ridiculous hours. He might even be home in time for dinner, some days. “It sounds like a good fit for me.”

“It _is_ ,” Tony agreed. “The housing allowance would be enough to get you a place of your own,” he added. “Unless you’re attached to the harem and don’t want to leave them?”

“Not share a room with a college woman that I’m not sleeping with?” Peter asked, affecting dismay. “That would be nice. Molly could have her girlfriend move in, instead. I know it would work out well for them.”

“Less testosterone in the house, I suppose,” Tony said, pleased.

He liked the idea of being able to go to Peter’s place without having to entertain the women he lived with – although they weren’t as bad as many that he’d met.

Peter snorted.

“You haven’t met Molly’s girlfriend.”

Tony smiled at that, and made an amused sound.

“Do I find you a place to live?”

“You don’t mind?”

“If _I_ find it, I can make sure it’s close to mine,” the older man pointed out. “Which I’d prefer. And more convenient for your school – and work.”

“Nothing too flashy,” Peter told him, knowing him well enough to know that Tony didn’t really do subtle well. “It’s just me and I don’t need much more than a bed.”

He’d proven that by living where he did, after all.

“I’ll find you the perfect place,” Tony promised. 

“Know anyone with a pick up truck?”

There was a soft chuckle.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“What does an intern do?” Peter asked.

“Depends on who they’re working with,” Tony said. “You’re basically going to be a glorified gofer, and a sounding board for me when I hit a wall with my research.”

“Oh.”

That might not sound like much, but it was to _Peter_. The thought of having Tony come to him if he wanted some input on a project? Especially an Avenger project, or something to do with his Ironman suits? That would be amazing.

The older man misunderstood the sound, though, and squeezed the hand that he was holding.

“It’ll be great,” he assured him. “Even better; you have access to me and all of my tech and resources to work on homework or anything school related.”

“Really?”

“Of course. _My_ job is to make you succeed. _Your_ job is to make yourself useful and help me succeed.”

“It sounds good,” Peter told him.

“It will be. Our hours will be unconventional,” Tony added. “Since you’ll have school, and I tend to stay up later, working. But like I said, we’ll make it work. You definitely won’t be working as hard as you are, now – and I’ll make sure you get more rest.”

“May and Ben will approve of that.”

“So will I.”

He couldn’t hide the satisfaction in his voice, and it made Peter smile. He didn’t mind that the whole solution made Tony happy. It was a good solution to their biggest conflict, and _Peter_ was satisfied by it, too. He would still have a job. Would still be able to support himself, and not only did he not have to work so many hours, but he didn’t have to dance and wipe himself out every night doing it. And since he wasn't dancing, Tony wouldn’t be so annoyed about people looking at him like a piece of meat.

“When would I start?” he asked, brushing a knuckle against Tony’s cheekbone, admiring the man’s handsome face – although he’d closed his eyes, still, giving himself up to Peter’s gentle touch.

“When you get home. We’ll give you a few days to get settled in the new place, take care of all the administrative necessities and getting you everything you need; office, credentials, introducing you to the people that you’ll be interacting with – although usually that will just be me.”

Tony sounded smug, and the hand that was on Peter’s leg moved higher, finding its way into his lap, and sliding along the slight swelling under the denim there.

“There should be some ground rules, though,” Peter said, watching as Tony began caressing him.

It was exciting.

“What kind of ground rules?”

“No sex.”

Now he _did_ open his eyes, and his hand stilled where it was. He looked up at Peter.

“What?”

“I don’t mean _ever_ ,” the boy clarified. “I mean, when I’m the intern and you're my boss, I don’t want you to think that it’s alright for you to come up behind me and have your way with me. I’ve _watched_ office porn...”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“That’s the best part about me being your boss, honey,” he said. “Especially since the contract makes it so you don’t _have_ to do anything that I demand of you. You’d be doing it because you’re into me. And letting _me_ be inside you.”

He was already imagining how perfect it would be to walk into his workroom, see Peter sitting there and kiss him hungrily before bending him over the table and opening his legs to slide between them.

“No.” Peter shook his head, his hand coming to rest on Tony’s, holding it where it was. “I _am_ into you, Tony. But I want us to be professional at work. And no special treatment, just because you like me. I get treated like the _other_ interns.”

“ _That_ isn’t going to happen,” Tony said, firmly. He was a born negotiator, and almost immediately had his counter. “No fucking when we’re working, but I can spoil the hell out of you, any time I want – _and_ if I want to, I can pull you into a closet and suck you off if you look like you need the stress relief.”

They both felt his cock twitch under Tony’s hand at the image that brought to mind.

“The closet thing only happens if we’re absolutely alone.”

He wasn't that modest, but he didn’t know how he’d feel about someone hearing them, or walking in on them.

“And the _spoiling_?” Tony asked, starting to caress Peter’s jeans, again. “I _want_ to spoil you, Peter. You’ve proven you can make it on your own, but let me show you how good it can be with someone older who wants to give you anything you want. Someone like me. Someone who wants you to smile and wants to see your eyes light up because of a gift – or a gentle word of praise…”

“But not because of the sex…”

“Of _course_ not because of the sex…” Tony assured him, lifting his head just a little, and sliding his fingers to the boy’s button. “It’s not like I’m _addicted_ to you, or anything.”


	34. 34

“Tony…”

His breath caught as the older man unzipped his jeans and carefully fished his half-aroused penis out of his jeans and boxers.

“I’m _certainly_ not thinking that I need to taste you,” Tony continued in a seductive murmur that made Peter’s heart pound, ignoring the boy’s soft groan as he admired that beautiful cock, once more, before leaning over to slide his tongue along the head, teasing the slit. “I’m going to _spoil_ you because you deserve it, not because of the sex. The sex is your way of spoiling _me_ ,” he added, his hand stroking Peter. “Your way of letting me know that I deserve to be allowed to have my way. To have you.” He looked up at Peter, and his eyes were dark with hunger and something that was more profound than what Peter could interpret. “ _You’re_ basically my reward for being so incredible.”

Peter was torn between amusement at Tony’s utter lack of modesty and awe that the was so able to say something so incredibly erotic and almost annoying while stroking his cock and looking so sincere.

“I’m a _prize_?”

“Absolutely.” Tony shifted enough to allow himself to rise up and kiss Peter’s chin, and then his lips, briefly. “Don’t you ever doubt that for a minute, honey. You’re _my_ prize, and I get off seeing you smiling and happy, which is why I want to spoil you and do good things for you. And _to_ you. Got it?”

Which Peter understood was Tony’s way of asking if he was willing. If Peter would finally break and allow him to be the sugar daddy in _deed_ , if not in name. At least, not in name, yet. Tony was completely sincere when he told Peter that it aroused him to see the younger man’s eyes light up. He wanted to experiment, and see what kind of presents would draw the best reactions. That kind of gifts, or actions, would make Peter shiver – which would make Tony rock hard, of course.

Peter couldn’t get his mind to focus enough to do more than nod. It might have been a little easier to concentrate and make the decision more objectively if Tony didn’t have his fingers wrapped around the shaft of Peter’s now very interested cock. He nodded, again, his hips lifting just a little in response to Tony’s touch.

“Fine. You can spoil me. A _little_.”

Tony’s eyes lit up.

“A _lot_ ,” he corrected.

Before Peter could put limitations on their new deal, the older man bent his head, again, and drew his cock into his mouth, his tongue starting to work the sensitive flesh with a skill that made the boy lean back and close his eyes, giving himself up to what was being done.

“Yes.”

Tony couldn’t help feeling just a little smug as he began working Peter’s cock. He was getting his way, and that was always something that satisfied him. Something that was – in its way – just as pleasurable as many of the things that he wanted to do to Peter. It was a kink of his, he knew, and part of the reason he enjoyed being the dominate partner in a sexual relationship. The other part, though, was listening to Peter’s soft moans as he buried that perfect cock in his throat more than once, sucking him and teasing him, licking and even nibbling as he stroked and fondled him.

With a grunt that was music to Tony’s ears, Peter tensed and climaxed, and the billionaire slurped him down with enthusiasm, and continued to until the boy finally sighed and melted into the back of the sofa looking extremely satisfied. Tony smiled, brushing a final kiss against the head of Peter’s cock before he put his cheek back on the younger man’s leg and looked up at him.

“Thank you.”

Peter chuckled, and shook his head.

“You’re so weird, Tony. Thanking me for letting you give me an amazing blowjob?”

“You had to hold still,” he reminded him. He reached his hand out and ran a finger along the still glistening shaft of Peter’s cock, admiring the way it twitched a little, but was already beginning to soften as the blood keeping it rigid began finding other places to go. “Although I admit the idea of securing you to my bed and having my way with you has its own merits.”

“You’re into that?”

“I’ve tried it. It definitely has its appeal.”

“I’ve seen it. In _porn_ , I mean.” Peter smiled. “Not in real life.”

“Did it excite you?”

“A little,” he admitted. He hadn’t made a motion to tuck himself back into his jeans, knowing that Tony was watching his cock soften, and willing to allow the older man his own pleasure – even if it was simply a visual one. “I was a little shocked, at first.”

“I can imagine.” Tony settled a little more comfortably, but moved his hand away from Peter’s lap for now. “It can be exciting, though.”

“Because you’re a control freak.”

“Exactly.” Tony didn’t deny it. “But you already knew that.”

“I like it.”

“Jesus, Peter,” Tony told him, pleased by the admission. “You’re such a perfect fit for me.”

The boy blushed, slightly, pleased at the praise, and now he did tuck his penis back into his jeans and zipped them up before he rested his hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“If you trade me places, I’ll return the favor…” he offered.

The billionaire shook his head.

“Not right now, honey. I’m going to just lie here and let you hold me – and maybe take a nap. Don’t make any plans for tonight, though, because once everyone else is asleep, you and I are going to pay a visit to the barn and I’m going to have my way with you before I go home to my empty bed.”

“Sounds good.”

><><><><>

“Do you eat these guys?” Tony asked, curiously, much later.

“These _guys_ are hens,” Peter replied, spreading the feed evenly. “Not roosters. Which means they’re female.”

The billionaire rolled his eyes.

“I’m learning so much about things I’ll never use again as long as I live…”

“You might be surprised and find yourself back here, again, some day,” Peter pointed out, smiling. “And no. To answer your question the ladies are here for egg production, not for the occasional chicken nugget. Ben likes the fresh eggs when we can get them, but as much as he’d like the fresh chicken, they are a bit scrawnier than what he’d use for cooking for the family – not to mention Richard has given them all _names_ – and once a creature has a name, you’re not supposed to eat it.”

“Really?”

“That’s the rule on the farm,” Peter confirmed. “If it has a name, it’s a pet. And he knows all of them and would definitely notice if one came up missing – and is smart enough to know what’s going on if that happened to be the same day Ben served chicken for dinner.”

As if speaking of him had summoned him, they both heard the back porch door slam and boy came running across the yard area that was between the house and the chicken coop. Tony noticed that he’d changed into different clothes from the ones that he’d been wearing at school, but he was all smiles when he reached them, scattering the chickens a bit with his arrival.

He launched himself at Peter, who caught him, easily, and hugged him as he swung him around to lose the momentum from his jump.

“About time you got home,” Peter told his cousin. “Do you know that we had to feed the chickens?”

“Dad’s making lasagna.”

Richard didn’t look at all contrite. He didn’t have any control over the school bus, after all.

“I know. Smells good, doesn’t it?”

They’d both fallen asleep on the couch, and had only woken when the cold nose of one of the dogs had signaled their return with Ben and May from the ride. Tony hadn’t been in any hurry to open his eyes, so Peter had eased out from under him, replacing his leg with a pillow, and had murmured for him to go back to sleep for a while.

He had, too.

By the time he’d woken, once more, the house smelled amazing, and Peter was leaning against the doorway to the kitchen talking to his aunt and uncle while Ben boiled noodles and continually checked the red sauce that was simmering on the stove and May cleaned up after the mess that he was making. Peter had looked over his shoulder, smiling a greeting when Tony walked over to stand beside him.

“Did you have a good nap?”

Tony nodded.

“Yeah. I might survive the evening, now.”

May smiled at that.

“We just got a call from the school. Richard’s bus is behind schedule.”

“Do you want me to go pick him up?”

She shook her head.

“No. He’s fine with his friends, thank you. They only called so we wouldn’t worry.”

“I was on the bus once until almost _midnight_ ,” Peter told Tony. “It was an adventure.”

“And _we_ had to do all the chores,” Ben added, looking over from where he was adding some chopped herbs into his red sauce. “It was _not_ an adventure.”

“Happens a lot?”

“More in the winter when the roads can be slick, or something mechanical happens to a bus.”

“Common enough not to worry,” Peter added. “But _we’re_ feeding the chickens if he doesn’t make it home on time.”

The kid was six. He didn’t have a lot of chores, but Tony had already learned that Richard was responsible for making sure the chickens and the dogs were fed. Since none of the dogs were nibbling on the billionaire in the middle of the night, Tony assumed the boy was doing a good job of it.

“How hard can it be?” Tony asked, sliding a hand along Peter’s back as he stood beside him. Nothing sexual in the motion, just a touch. “ _Richard_ can do it, after all. I should be able to manage.”

Ben looked over at him from the stove.

“Tell me again how well you milked the cow…?”

May chuckled even as Tony rolled his eyes.

“She likes him better, is all.”

Ben smirked, and even from the distance between the stove and the doorway, Tony could see how much Peter resembled the man.

“Go find something to do,” Ben ordered the two. “I’m cooking, and I don’t like distractions.”

“We’re going to make ice cream for dinner,” May added – for Peter’s benefit.

She’d asked Tony while they were in town what his favorite flavor was, and had then stopped in the produce area of the store and picked up some peaches. Dinner was going to be his going away meal, and they’d have what he liked best to celebrate. One of the reasons they were having lasagna.

Peter made an approving noise and he and Tony had retired to the dining room to play chess at the table.


	35. 35

With Richard now assisting them, telling Tony and Peter about what happened in class after Tony and May had left when show and tell was done, they finished feeding the chickens and then went to the barn to take care of the rest of the evening chores. To save a little time, Peter was the one that milked the placid cow, while Richard and Tony brought in the horses and settled them in their stalls.

Tony had to admit that he felt just a little smug and proud when the mare allowed him to touch her little brown foal as he filled the water bucket for her.

“She likes you, Tony,” Richard said, smiling at the man’s expression when the baby butted her head against Tony’s hand for more attention.

“Yeah? I like her, too.”

“ _I_ like you, too,” the boy said. “I wish you didn’t have to leave, tomorrow.”

Now Tony felt downright mushy inside. He couldn’t help it. Stupid kid just managed to hit him in the feels at a vulnerable moment.

“I know, buddy,” he told him, watching as the foal moved toward the mare’s flank to find her own dinner. “But I have _Ironman_ things to do, and I can’t do them here.” He reached down and picked Richard up, hugging him. “But maybe this summer when school’s out, you can come visit with May and Ben and I’ll take you to the compound and introduce you to the Avengers.”

“ _Really_?”

“Yup.” Why not? He didn’t call in favors nearly as often as they called on him. They could play it up for the kid and show him a good time. Maybe even have Bruce turn Hulk for him, if they could figure out a way to do it, safely. “We’ll set it up with your mom and dad.”

“Wow!”

The boy hugged him and then squirmed away, too excited to hold still, and ran out of the barn and toward the house, eager to tell his mom and dad what he’d been told.

“What was that all about?” Peter asked, curiously, having just finished with the cow and settling her and the other one into their stall.

He hadn’t missed Richard running off and could hear him yelling for May and Ben, but hadn’t heard the reason.

“I invited him out to visit this summer. Told him I’d introduce him to the Avengers. I probably should have asked May and Ben, first, but he caught me in a moment of weakness.”

Peter smiled, and slid into Tony’s bubble, putting his arms around him and resting his cheek against the older man’s chest.

“That was nice of you.”

Tony wrapped his arms around Peter, and buried his face in those curls that he loved so much.

“I’m a nice guy.”

“M-hmm…”

They were still for a long moment, just enjoying the embrace of the other and well aware that Tony would be leaving and Peter _wasn't_ , so they wouldn’t see each other for a while. It wasn't like before, though, when Peter had left Tony’s bed that night so long ago. This was finite, and they both knew it. It was still time apart, though, and Peter had to admit that he rather liked having so much of Tony’s attentions. Even if he had to share him with his family.

It was still better than sharing him with the rest of the world, after all.

“We should probably get inside,” Peter finally said, reluctantly. “I need to take care of the milk.”

“Yeah…” Tony stepped back just a step, his hands going to cup Peter’s face, making him look up at him. The boy’s eyes were so beautiful. And, at the moment, darker with desire and something else that he wasn't sure he could place. “A kiss, first?”

Peter nodded, his hands sliding to Tony’s hips.

“One.”

“Two…”

Tony didn’t give him a chance to counter. He bent his head and caught Peter’s mouth with his own, taking charge like he did so easily. He kissed him, softly at first but then with a hunger that was born of the fact that he knew just how perfect a fit Peter was for him – in all ways. He deepened the kiss, allowing his hands to explore Peter’s denim clad ass, and felt the younger man melt against him with a soft moan of desire.

It was only a superhuman effort that allowed Tony to pull away from the promise of that embrace and kiss Peter’s forehead, holding him still while they both cooled down a little.

“Jesus, honey,” he whispered, ignoring the way the cow was watching them. “You’re delicious.”

“Tony…” Peter’s eyes were just a little glazed with want, now. Tony felt him slide his hand down his stomach and find the aching bulge in the front of his jeans. “I need you.”

“Oh, fuck…” He chuckled and pulled Peter into a hug, forcing his hand to still what it was doing, and guiding the boy’s head to his shoulder. “Not right now, baby. Take a deep breath…” he felt Peter obey, and kissed his temple, chastely. “Now another…”

He repeated the command until they were both breathing regularly, again, and Peter’s body lost the tension that had been so exciting – but at such an inopportune time. The boy finally sighed, and then chuckled, a throaty sound that came from somewhere near Tony’s ear.

“Wow. Sorry… I don’t know what happened…”

“I liked it,” Tony assured him, knowing full well that Peter was still young – despite his maturity – and that his sex drive could take over at times, like it had, just then. Especially with an experienced partner like Tony knew he was. “Don’t worry, honey,” he told him, kissing him, but careful not to deepen it, this time. “I’ll take good care of you, tonight. I promise.”

Peter’s reply was a shiver, but Tony pulled away before things could get out of hand, again. He knew that he might not be wiling to stop things, the next time, and there was way too much chance that they would be interrupted if they started anything, just then.

He bent down and picked up the bucket of milk and allowed Peter to lead him out of the barn and toward the house.


	36. 36

“You sure you’re okay to drive?”

Tony nodded, smiling down at the boy.

“It’s only an hour or so to the airfield. Then I’ll sleep on the way home.”

He _was_ a little tired, after all.

Dinner the evening before had been as amazing as always. Tony was tempted to talk to Ben about opening a restaurant instead of doing the combine deal – but the combine deal was going to be a lot more profitable, and he figured the eldest Parker could dabble with more serious cooking once they’d become millionaires

Richard had cast mournful looks Tony’s direction, occasionally, and it was touching that he was going to be missed by the boy. Touching enough that he’d paid a lot of attention to Richard’s state of mind, making sure to joke and tease with him throughout the meal, and then when they settled at the table to play boardgames with him. Tony was even the one to check his homework – what little there was of it.

Not surprisingly, all the answers were right, although the boy had sloppy handwriting, and Tony had to remind himself that the kid was only six. When May had finally called a halt to the night’s activities and sent Richard to bed, Tony had been the recipient of a goodnight hug, too. He’d promised to see him in the morning, and then had lingered over a final cup of coffee with May, Ben and Peter talking about the contracts that Tony would have written up when he returned home, and telling May and Ben about what Peter’s new job with him would entail.

Not surprisingly, both of them looked pleased at the change of occupation, and they’d extracted a promise from Peter that when he returned to the city, he’d make an effort to get more rest and take better care of himself, now.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Tony had promised.

He wasn't hiding the fact that _he_ was pleased with the change, either.

May and Ben had gone to bed, then, with Ben promising waffles for breakfast, and Tony and Peter had sat at the table a little longer, simply enjoying the chance to be alone. They played cards, choosing Gin, and Tony had suggested that the winner would be allowed to have their way with the loser, that evening. Peter wasn't that great at the game in the first place, and Tony had been practically salivating when he’d walked with the younger man out to the barn much later. He'd undressed his young lover, slowly, and had made love to him, thoroughly, and in a manner that made it clear (as he always did) that Tony liked being in charge of their activities.

Even when it was just sneaking off to a small storage room in the barn and a narrow twin-sized bed that luckily didn’t creak too much, because Tony had Peter pinned under him and was thrusting eagerly into him, eliciting soft cries of pleasure with each motion.

When they were both satiated, Tony had held him a while, but before Peter could fall asleep, had roused them both and walked arm and arm with him back to the house, kissed him, tenderly at the bottom of the staircase, and had gone to bed.

Only to be woken at five am by a very excited youngster and his crotch loving hound dog.

><><><><

“Drive safe…”

“I will, honey. Keep an eye on Richard for me.”

Peter smiled at that. They’d walked the boy to the bus stop that morning, and Tony had had another hug before Richard got onto the bus. Then he’d stepped back and waved at the few children already picked up when they shouted greetings to him, waving their hands out the windows until they were out of sight.

“May and Ben will tell me that that’s _their_ job,” he said. “But I’ll do it, anyway.” He looked up at Tony. “Thank you for coming and checking on me.”

“I’m glad I did,” the billionaire told him, honestly. “I love seeing where you’re from. And I’m glad I had a chance to meet your family. They’re good people.”

“Yeah.”

Tony took his hands.

“I’ll pick you up at the airport, Saturday.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Enjoy your stay,” Tony said, leaning down to kiss him, softly. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

Peter smiled and then stepped back so Tony could get into the car. The older man started the engine and blew Peter a kiss, and drove off. Peter waited until he was gone, and then turned and headed back into the house.

“He left?” Ben asked, lounging, lazily, in his recliner, reading the newspaper.

“Yeah.”

“I _like_ him,” May said.

She was looking through a catalogue, but Peter knew that they were both simply giving him privacy that he had needed to say his goodbyes to Tony.

“Me, too,” Peter agreed. He flopped down on the sofa, hooking his knees up over the arm so his feet (and his _shoes_ ) weren’t on the sofa. “Do you guys need anything?”

“Nope.” Ben answered for both of them. “I’m going to sit right here and relax until it’s time to make lunch.”

May nodded her agreement, not even lifting her eyes from the catalogue. They both thought that he looked tired, although neither gave any indication that they knew _why_. If they didn’t engage him in conversation, they knew that he’d doze off right where he was, and would probably sleep for a few hours.

He needed the rest, as far as they were concerned, and both were looking forward to seeing him far more relaxed now that money wasn't going to be such an issue for him – or _them_ , for that matter. Sure enough, the boy was asleep in only minutes, and a soft snore pulled Ben from his newspaper. He looked at his nephew, and then over at his wife, who was watching Peter sleep.

“Want to go for a ride?” he asked, softly, setting the paper aside.

“Yes.”

They got up, May covered Peter with a blanket to make sure he didn’t catch a chill, and they left him to his nap.


	37. 37

Traveling – even when it was only halfway across the continent – was tiring. Peter didn’t mind, of course; he was glad that May and Ben had convinced him to stay once he’d hurried home to make sure everyone was alright, and he had had a very good time with his family. It was certainly worth getting up early and hugging his cousin and uncle goodbye ( _again_ ) and then allowing May to talk him into letting her drive him to the airport over an hour away rather than take a bus.

A long wait for the plane, another wait for them to take off – due to some crazy thunderstorms in the flight plan of the trip – and then the flight itself.

He’d ended up in a section of the plane with a high-spirited group of students who were heading on a school trip to New York. Many of them traveling out of the state for their first time ever, and were excited about it and boisterous. Because of that, Peter didn’t get the chance to sleep on the plane that he’d hoped for. By the time he landed, he was hungry, tired and just a little grumpy.

The thunderstorm that had delayed his flight must have been heading east as well, because when the plane landed, it was pouring. Peter stayed in his seat while the other people on the plane scrambled to get their carryon bags and get off the plane. He’d rather wait and avoid the rush of people.

Besides, unlike many of them, he knew that he wasn't going to have to hail a cab.

Tony had called him the evening before to double check his arrival time and flight number. He was going to pick him up, as he’d promised, and Peter was eager to see him. And the new place that Tony told him he’d found for Peter to live.

The aisle finally cleared, and Peter stood, snatched up his backpack, thanked the flight attendants for their friendly service, and headed off the plane and toward the baggage claim. He only had one small bag since he hadn’t needed much with him, and definitely preferred to travel lightly when he could.

“I was beginning to think that you missed your flight…”

He smiled when he heard the voice coming from the right, and stopped, seeing Tony standing off to one side of the large group of students, carefully keeping his head down and his hat on to be avoid being recognized.

Peter turned and walked over, finding himself engulfed in a hug that made him a little less tired and far less grumpy.

“I was near the back of the plane,” he explained. “Sorry to make you wait.”

Tony’s lips brushed his cheek – and then his ear, delightfully.

“You’re worth the wait. How was the flight?”

“Bumpy and loud.”

Tony hadn’t missed the large group of youngsters that were also gathered at the luggage carousel.

“I bet. Did you get any sleep?”

“No. And they ran out of lunches, so I didn’t get anything but a muffin, either.”

“Poor baby. Let’s get you home, shall we?”

“I have to get my bag, first,” Peter reminded him. He smiled, shyly, when Tony took his hand as they walked over to the carousel. Tony hadn’t actually held his hand in public in quite a while. Or maybe _ever_. It was nice. And definitely signaled a change in their relationship. One that was a reflection of the fact that he wasn't so stressed? “Are we going to my place? Or to _yours_?”

They’d talked on the phone almost every evening, so Peter knew that the older man had already found and secured an apartment for him. One that was very close to Tony’s, although there was only a single bedroom – no _guestroom_ – and it didn’t occupy the penthouse floor. He also knew that there was a contract waiting for his signature – and that Ben and May had already sent the contract that Tony had had special delivered to them on to their attorney to double-check and were just waiting for word so they could sign theirs.

Tony had approved of that precaution, rather than be offended, but had promised Peter that his internship contract was much simpler.

“Let’s go to _yours_ ,” Tony said, watching the bags go by, but uncertain which was Peter’s, so he couldn’t grab them for him. “I want to see if you like it, or if I have to eat the lease and get you something else.”

Peter smiled at that, too.

“A place of my own?” Peter said. “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

He’d called Jana and let them know what was going on, so they wouldn’t be broadsided and have to scramble for a new roommate, and even offered to pay his share of the rent until they found someone to replace him. As he’d expected, though, Molly’s girlfriend was eager to move in, so he’d let them know that they could just box his belongings if they wanted to, and clear his stuff so they could start arranging the room to their satisfaction.

As far as he knew, he just needed to swing by – preferably with Tony to drive him, or with an Uber or a cab – and pick up his things. He didn’t have a lot of stuff, after all. Mostly his school items, his electronics and a closet of clothes. One trip would handle it all, easily.

“I hope so.”

Peter’s bag came around, then, and the boy grabbed it up before it could escape, and they’d have to wait another turn of the carousel.

“Ready.”

“That’s all you packed?”

“Yes.”

“For a _week_?”

“A week at _home_ ,” he reminded him, as they started walking, and now Tony reached for the bag, so Peter didn’t have to carry his backpack and his bag, as well. “I didn’t need much – and could do laundry while I was there.”

No one to impress on the farm, after all – and he still had some clothes in his old room, there.

“Huh.” Tony put an arm around Peter, tucking his head against him, momentarily, to kiss his cheek. “It’ll make it easier to unpack, I suppose.”

The boy smiled, shifting his backpack so he could put an arm around Tony as well, but he didn’t reply. He just let the older man lead him out of the terminal and into the rainy day. Only as far as the car that was parked and waiting for them, though.

_Illegally_ parked, Peter noticed, with a police officer standing beside it, apparently guarding it.

“Thanks James,” Tony said, flashing the officer a grin.

“Anytime, Mr. Stark.”

Tony opened the door for Peter, taking his backpack and putting it and the bag in the back before getting behind the wheel.

“I filled your fridge, but is there anything you’d like to stop for?”

“Is there peanut butter and bread?”

“And a _toaster_ ,” Tony confirmed. “Which _reminds_ me… I didn’t see you eat toast and peanut butter once, the entire time I was at the corn ranch. What gives?”

“Ben doesn’t approve of it,” Peter replied, honestly. “He thinks it’s boring and unimaginative and if I even consider bringing some into the house, you wouldn’t believe the disgruntled looks I get from him.”

“Seriously?”

“You’ve seen how he cooks. Food is supposed to be _art_. Toast with anything – especially something as bland as peanut butter – is not welcome.”

“It’s _supposed_ to be boring. It’s _toast_.”

Peter shrugged.

“I agree. He doesn’t. I never have it back home, and I love it.”

“What a _tyrant_ …” Tony said, shaking his head and not hiding his amusement.

“Right?”

The drive was pleasant. Peter had his hand on Tony’s leg, feeling the muscles flex and contract every time he accelerated or braked. When he wasn't shifting, the older man’s hand was covering his, and he’d occasionally caress a finger with his thumb. The boy closed his eyes, relaxing further, and Tony smiled, tenderly, at the soft sigh.

“I’m so glad to have you home.”

Peter’s hand squeezed his leg, lightly, but he didn’t open his eyes.

“I’m glad to be here.”

><><><><>

He was almost dozing off when Tony announced that they were here, and he opened his eyes just in time to see the glass and metal side of a medium sized apartment building before they pulled into the parking garage.

“You have your own parking space,” the older man told him, pulling into one that was very close to an elevator. “I’ll use it until you get a car – if you decide you even want one.”

“I can’t afford a-“

“You’re going to be rich, eventually,” Tony interrupted with a smile. “It’s something to consider.”

Good point.

“I’ll think about it.”

They took his bags from the back of the car and Tony led him to the elevator.

“There’s a gym, a day spa, a coffee shop, a rooftop area with an outdoor firepit and even a pool and a hot tub.”

“Fancy.”

Tony smirked.

“I tried to find one with a hot tub in your apartment, but the best I could do was a bathtub with jets.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It _is_.” The elevator opened to a hallway that was brightly lit and tastefully decorated. Tony walked to the door on the south end, stopping in front of 1403. “This is you.”

There wasn't a key, which should have given Peter a clue of what was to come. Instead, the billionaire pulled a key card and pressed it against a small panel before handing the card to Peter. There was a soft click when the door unlocked, and Peter pushed it open and the two walked in.

“Wow.”

It was big – not as big as Tony’s – but wide open. There was a living room with a gas fireplace, and a TV hanging on the wall above it. A kitchen island and a transition from hardwood floor to tile was all that signaled the change from living room to kitchen/dining area. The appliances were all high end and stainless steel. Including the toaster that had the prize position on the counter next to an expensive looking coffee pot.

The sofa was leather, with two pillows on either end, and a coffee table, where Peter saw that his laptop and school things were already settled.

“I went by your old place and Molly and Jana had already packed your things for you,” Tony explained. He rolled his eyes. “They told me to remind you that just because you’re not living there, any longer, it doesn’t mean that you aren’t expected to come by for dinner, occasionally, and to keep in touch with them.”

Peter smiled at that.

“I will.”

“Good. You should.” He looked around. “Okay, so far?”

“It’s amazing. The other interns live like this?”

“Of course not. But they aren’t _my_ interns, and you are. You need to live someplace that coddles you, to make up for all the hard work you will be doing. Coming home to a leaky faucet or a lumpy sofa isn’t going to keep you stress free, now, is it?”

“I guess not.”

“Of course not.”

Peter walked to the kitchen, and noted that there was a glass bowl on the island – and that the fish inside was a brightly colored blue and silver one, swimming lazily, and not that interested in his surroundings.

“You got me a _fish_?”

“This is Clyde,” Tony told him with a shrug.

“Friend of Bubba’s from fish camp?” Peter asked with a smirk, moving his head for a closer look.

“Something like that. I was tempted to get you a puppy, but although they’re cute, they’re a lot of work.”

Not to mention, it would have taken all of Peter’s attention, and the billionaire had no intention of doing anything that might take away from the attention that _he_ wanted from Peter. A fish was good enough.

“Yeah, I don’t have time for a puppy. Or anything else, really. Clyde, here, is plenty. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Tony smiled. “You have time for _me_ , though, right?”

“I’ll make time,” Peter promised him.

He wasn't dancing, so he’d have more time, presumably. Besides, he was going to be _working_ with Tony, now. He’d definitely be seeing more of him. He was looking forward to it.

So was Tony.


	38. 38

“I’ll make sure that you have some,” the billionaire told him. “May has already extracted a promise that the next time she sees you, you’re going to look refreshed and happy. Hence the day spa – which you are expected to make use of, frequently.”

“You’d let a _stranger_ give me a massage?” Peter asked, raising an eyebrow. “Or see me naked?”

Which made the older man roll his eyes.

“I didn’t think of that. Just don’t wag your rear at the masseuse.”

Peter chuckled, and Tony took his hand, turned and led him into the only other room, which was the bedroom. It was half the size of the living room, with a large bed, made up with red and gold bedding and pillows that made Peter glance over at the older man.

“Seriously?”

“ _What_? I chose the sheets and comforter, I got to pick what they looked like. You’re lucky they don’t actually have little _Ironmans_ on them.”

Besides, it would remind the boy of him, even when he was sleeping. Tony had liked that thought.

“It beautiful,” Peter said, looking around and not missing that there was a walk in closet, and glancing into the bathroom, where there was a jetted tub, just like Tony had said, along with a standalone shower. “Was it furnished?”

“No. Everything is new.” Tony walked over and sat down on the bed, watching as Peter prowled around his new bedroom. “Do you like it?”

Peter walked over, and Tony caught his hand, parting his legs and pulling the boy to stand between them so he could look up at him.

“It’s a bit more than I expected,” he told him. “But I love it. Thank you.”

Tony leaned forward, turning his head so he could put his cheek against Peter’s pelvis and put his arms around him.

“It’s only the beginning,” he promised, feeling a thrill when he felt Peter’s fingers carding through his hair. “I’m going to spoil the hell out of my baby.”

“Your _baby_ , huh? Peter echoed, but Tony didn’t hear anything in his tone that said he didn’t like the term. “As in _sugar_ baby?”

“Not officially, I suppose,” Tony told him. “More like equal partner that I just happen to get to with, who gets called baby, sometimes, because it’s a term of endearment and _also_ happens to be yet another kink of mine…”

Peter brushed his fingers through Tony’s hair, tenderly, admiring the traces of silver among the darker strands.

“If it’s a kink, and it makes you _happy_ , then you can be my daddy. But don’t go overboard, okay? _Please_?”

Tony shivered, and pressed a kiss against the denim covering the boy’s groin.

“I’ll ease you into it,” he assured him. “Nothing too off the wall.”

He’d have to remember to have FRIDAY cancel the dinner with the five-piece ensemble playing in the background.

“Good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Tony slid his hands along Peter’s hips, finding his ass, automatically, and cupping both cheeks through the boy’s jeans and holding him. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. Talking on the phone isn’t quite the same, is it?”

“No. Not even close. If you take a nap, now, think you’ll feel up to going out to celebrate your new place and the new job?

“I need a shower before I do anything else, really.”

He’d been traveling all day.

“I can join you?”

“How else will I get my back washed?”

Tony made a pleased noise and got to his feet.

“Before you do, though…” he said, catching Peter’s hand before he could move toward the bathroom. “One more thing.”

“Oh?”

The older man nodded.

“You still owe me a _dance_.”

True enough. Peter smiled.

“Let me get showered, first,” he said, more than willing to perform for Tony – and _only_ for Tony, from now on. “I’ll make it a lap dance.”

“Not the kind of dance I have in mind, honey,” the older man told him. He kept Peter’s hand in his own and tapped a control on the wall that the boy had assumed was a light panel, but turned out to be an interior digital music system, to judge by the soft melody that was now playing in the room. “Slow dance with me, Peter,” Tony requested, pulling him into his arms. “Just let me hold you for a while.”

Peter smiled, touched, and melted against Tony’s larger body, arms going around him and his cheek against his chest. He felt the billionaire rest his chin on the top of his head, and he closed his eyes, swaying with him to the music, and savoring the sensation of just how well they fit together.

“Thank you for finding me a place,” he murmured.

“You do like it?” he asked, again – just to make sure.

“I love it.” He was silent for a minute, thinking about all that Tony had done for him. Not the apartment, and the furnishings – which were great, of course – but more about how he’d been there for him, how he’d taken care of him when he’d been tired from work, or from studying. How he’d followed him home, just because he was worried something had happened and that he might need someone to be there for him. How he showed him a million little ways that he cared for him – including coming up with a solution for Peter’s own pigheaded stubbornness when it came to being independent. “I love you, Tony,” he said, softly.

The arms that were wrapped around him were suddenly holding him tighter, and he heard a soft noise from above him that might have been suspiciously similar to a sniff. Tony bent his head and Peter felt him press a kiss against his temple.

“I love you, too, Peter.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I’ve known for a while, now.” The tone was teasing, now, and light-hearted. Maybe even _giddy_. “I can’t believe it took _you_ so long to figure it out. You’re smarter than that.”

Peter smiled, pulling his head back so he could look up at him. Tony’s eyes were watching him, filled with love and warmth and a little awe.

“I had to make sure. Like doing an experiment, you know? Making sure it was a constant, and not just a one time aberration.”

“Nerd.”

They both chuckled, and Tony bent his head and caught Peter’s lips with his own, kissing him as they continued to dance.

“We should try out the bed…” Peter murmured into the kiss, feeling that familiar ache well up inside him, making the blood rush south and his body tense with desire. “To make sure it’s the right size.”

“It only has to be as big as you,” Tony told him, stepping back to reach for his shirt and pull it off. “Because I’m going to be on you like a blanket…”

“Mmmm… I like the sound of that,” Peter told him. Then he looked up at him, almost shyly. “Daddy…”

Tony groaned, and pulled him into his arms, again.

“Jesus, Peter. You’re so fucking amazing.”

“Thank you.”

“A shower, first, baby,” he said, hands moving down to unbutton the boy’s jeans. “Then we’ll see if the bed squeaks.”

“You checked for bedbugs?” the boy asked, watching as Tony slid his pants and underwear off and then stepping out of them.

“We can do that, together.”

“Yes…”

Whether in reply to the sentence, or the response to Tony’s lips being pressed against the head of his cock, Tony didn’t know. And it didn’t matter.


	39. Epilogue

“Think they missed the plane?”

Peter smiled, turning his attention from the crowd of people who were all gathering around the luggage carousel.

“I’m pretty sure one of them would have called us to let us know.”

Tony scowled as a couple accidentally jostled him, walking at a quick run to find a prime spot to wait for their bags and unaware that the man they’d just bumped into – without an apology – was Ironman.

“Tell me again why we didn’t bring them in on my _private_ plane?”

“Because Richard’s never flown before, and May and Ben wanted him to experience it. The _regular_ way,” Peter added. “Not the insanely rich billionaire way.”

“My way is better,” Tony muttered.

The younger man slid his hand along Tony’s back.

“They’re not millionaires, yet,” he reminded him. “A private plane isn’t something they want to come to rely on.”

Tony just mumbled his disagreement, and then noticed the arrival of the three that he and Peter were waiting for. May came first, wearing her backpack, as well as carrying another – almost certainly Richard’s – and Ben was holding their son in his arms. The little boy had his head on his father’s shoulder, and looked abject even from behind.

May smiled as Peter stepped up to her, taking the backpacks and hugging her, tightly, in the same motion.

“We were getting worried,” he told her, smiling at Ben, and then frowning when he noticed that Richard’s face was smeared with tears and his eyes were red. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I threw up,” Richard said, miserably.

“You did?”

Ben nodded, looking as exhausted as his young son.

“More than once, too,” he added. “Threw up on take-off, once when we hit turbulence somewhere over Michigan, and then just now when we dropped in for the landing.”

“Poor guy,” Tony said, stepping up and offering his hands to the boy, who allowed his father to transfer him into the billionaire’s arms. It was to Tony’s credit that he didn’t even flinch at the idea of the wet splotches smearing the front of the Richard’s shirt coming into contact with his own expensive one. “Does he need a doctor?”

“No,” May said, shaking her head as Ben stretched his arms with relief. “Just a chance to sit on something that isn’t moving underneath him.”

Tony felt just a little gooey inside when Richard put his arms around his neck and rested his cheek on his shoulder. This wasn't a position he’d have thought he’d find himself in – _ever_.

“We’ll get him to Peter’s and give him a chance to take it easy for a while.”

May looked at her nephew.

“Sure you want to be roommates with him for the next two weeks?”

“Of course.” He watched as Ben moved to the carousel, suddenly, and started grabbing bags. “We have you and Ben registered at a hotel facing the park, and I’m going to keep Richard with me.”

That elicited a tired smile from the little boy.

“Can we have _toast_?”

Ben rolled his eyes, but Peter only nodded.

“Absolutely.”

“I even made sure to get a new toaster,” Tony added, brushing the boy’s hair back from his forehead. “It’ll toast _four slices_ at a time.”

“We might want to wait for a bit before he eats anything,” May advised as Richard’s head went to Tony’s shoulder, tiredly. She turned to her nephew and hugged him, again. “You look _wonderful_. Have you gained some weight?”

Peter nodded.

“A little.”

“Mostly, he’s just not burning himself out every night,” Tony told her, smugly. He accepted a one-armed hug from her, mindful of his exhausted little burden, and then offered Ben his hand. “He’s even _sleeping_ regularly, now.”

All of which was true.

In the three and a half months since Peter had quit his dancing job in favor of working as Tony’s intern, there had been considerable changes in the boy’s demeaner. He did still work long hours – Tony was single-minded sometimes when he was in the groove when it came to his research and development – but those long hours were spent with the billionaire, and despite the schedule, Tony was always careful to make sure Peter wasn't overworking himself.

He’d have class, and would either take a cab or an Uber to the tower, or sometimes Tony would come get him, and the two would spend time in Tony’s workroom, or in the older man’s office. If Peter had homework to take care of, that always came first, and Tony would help him if he needed it, or would distract him with caresses and kisses until Peter would be forced to laughingly shoo him away until he finished.

He’d go, too, but when the schoolwork was finished, then Peter’s attention was for Tony, only, and the billionaire loved it. They’d work on whatever project Tony was focused on that the moment, or go over results from other research that was always going on in the background. Tony was far too brilliant to be working on only one project at a time.

Then it was a late dinner, and Tony would call it a night, and he and his intern would go home. Either to Peter’s apartment, or to Tony’s, but very rarely would it be alone. They’d decompress by spending time together. Either playing games, which Peter loved, so Tony came to, as well, or watching a movie while cuddled together on the couch or in bed. Either way, if they didn’t fall asleep in each other’s arms, they’d end up making love until well into the night – and _then_ they’d fall asleep in each other’s arms.

When school ended for the year, and Peter’s schedule relaxed even further, Tony had suggested that the young man invite Ben and May out for an extended visit. Ben had completed the discovery on the combine proposition, and things were looking like they were going to go exactly as Tony had anticipated – not surprising the billionaire one bit, of course. The newest contracts had been signed, and the business had been incorporated. Starker Industries’ new fleet of AI enabled combines were already in the development stage and would be rolling out for a test market in time for harvest the next year.

It had been a little later in the summer than intended before they could come, but that was fine. It gave Tony and Peter a chance to spend some more time together, time that didn’t include school – which meant that Tony had even more of Peter’s attentions, and the older man was finding that he was well and truly hooked on the boy. Not just as a _bedmate_ – which there were absolutely no complaints – but also Peter just seemed to get smarter and more interesting the more Tony got to know him. He was the perfect fit for someone like Tony, and provided the grounding that the billionaire hadn’t even realized that he’d needed.

><><><

May allowed her expression to show shock, which made Peter smile and even Richard managed a weak chuckle.

“Sleep? What a novel concept for him.”

Peter just rolled his eyes and picked up the two heaviest bags.

“I’m enjoying it,” the young man admitted. He looked at Ben. “How’s the hand?”

“I’m done with rehab and there’s no loss of motion. It doesn’t even ache on rainy days.”

He actually sounded disappointed.

They headed for the exit, and the limo that was waiting for them, since they weren’t all going to fit in Tony’s sportscar.

The billionaire ran his hand through Richard’s hair, noticing again just how much he looked like Peter. Not surprising, since they both looked like _Ben_ – and he’d seen a photo of Peter’s dad, and he’d looked a lot like Ben, too. Or Ben resembled him, since Richard had been the older brother.

“You’re not going to throw up on me, are you?” he asked as he nodded a thank you to the driver, who held the door open.

“No.” The boy roused a little when he was settled onto the leather seat beside Tony, looking around with interest at the luxurious car. “Thank you for the saddle,” he added. “It’s great.”

Tony had sent Richard a beautifully tooled saddle for his birthday a few weeks before, since they hadn’t been able to come out to the city in time to celebrate it in person. As Peter had explained to Tony, farmers couldn’t drop their responsibilities and go traveling without making sure their place and stock were being cared for. Even when the stock only consisted of a few animals.

“Did you try it out?”

“Natasha’s not old enough to ride, yet,” Richard pointed out, abandoning the space beside Tony to climb into Peter’s lap when he settled on the seat across from them, and beside May. “Not even close.”

Tony smirked. He couldn’t wait for their planned excursion up to the compound to introduce Richard to the Avengers – who were readying themselves for the invasion. The boy had been talking to Peter on the phone one night soon after his return to the city – and right after having been introduced to Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton. He’d been slightly confused when Romanoff had referred to him as the axe murderer – a story that Tony and Clint had explained, eventually – but Richard had laughed when Peter told him that story and had decided that _Natasha_ was the perfect name for Darcie’s foal.

Somehow Tony was going to get that particular tidbit of information worked into conversation somewhere when Richard and Romanoff were together.

“We’ll send you pictures when he does,” Ben promised, watching as his son curled up in his nephew’s lap and promptly fell asleep. He smiled, gently, at the sight. “I hope you don’t have any big plans, today.”

“No.” Peter shook his head, pressing a kiss against his cousin’s temple. “We’re going to settle him at my place, and we can spend some time, together, relaxing over toast.” His brown eyes shone with amusement at Ben’s reaction to that statement. “Then we’ll get you and May checked in and give you the rest of the day to yourselves. Tomorrow it’ll be some sightseeing with Richard and the next day we’ll take him out to the compound while you guys see a show or two and have dinner at the Bau-Roma.”

_“Fancy…”_

Tony smirked.

“Hardest restaurant to get into,” he said, smugly. “I think you’ll have a good time. I might have let slip that you can cook, and the chef wants to meet you.”

May rolled her eyes.

“I won’t see him the rest of the trip,” she complained. “You know that, right?”

“That’s the idea,” Tony told her. “More time for you to spend with _us_ , then.”

Both of them looked amused, although Peter knew that Tony had actually cleared his entire schedule for the next two weeks, as well as making sure Peter was free of responsibilities, too. Tony pointed out, somewhat defensively, that he wasn't falling for the whole _family_ thing. He just wanted to make sure his investment partners were all happy. It would make business better, that way.

Peter hadn’t believed him for a moment, but he’d let it pass without too much comment. They had been in Tony’s bed, at the time, and there had been other things on their minds, just then.

“Are we going to tell them…?” Tony had asked, brushing his fingertips against the metal band that he’d put on the younger man’s finger just that evening.

Peter had smiled, and had rolled on top of the larger man, straddling him and covering him while nibbling on his jaw and neck.

“Not, yet. There isn’t any hurry, right?”

“No,” Tony had agreed, lifting his chin to give Peter more access to his neck, silently begging for his touch and receiving it. There wasn't any hurry at all, really. Peter had said yes. Had made a verbal commitment to him, and that was enough – for now. They might even wait for him to finish school, if it would work out better for him that they did. He slid his hands along the boy’s sides, and then cupped his ass, his big hands spreading those perfect cheeks just right so he could maneuver himself between them, his aroused cock sliding along the crack and making Peter shiver. Especially when nudged the head against his tight opening. “No hurry, at all.”

He had what he wanted.

Maybe, in time, they’d even figure out a way to give May and Ben a grandchild.

There was no hurry at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!  
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**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Wooing Peter Parker - Time Stamp](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23330881) by [Neuropsyche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neuropsyche/pseuds/Neuropsyche)




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